National Novel Writing Month: My Personal Day 1 Challenge

In September 2006 my eldest daughter, Ruth, challenged me to utilize National Novel Writing Month to fulfill my life long dream of writing science fiction. Each year since I have participated in the daunting challenge of writing a 50,000-word novel during the month of November. What an exhilarating experience seeing my stories come alive and discover where my characters would lead me.

I take time off early in the month to concentrate on writing and get a jump start toward the goal. Even though the fewest words I have written is 75,000, I still feel insecure each November 1 and worry about reaching my goal. Something might happen to thwart my goal.

That “something” happened November 1, 2010. My heart was not in my writing. The prior Wednesday my mother entered the hospital with what was determined to be a rapid onset leukemia. On Saturday the Doctor told my brother that Mom had 24-48 hours left. So, Monday I dreaded the call, which came at 1:30 PM. When my brother couldn’t finish “Hi Dave…” I knew the end had come. My mother now slept in the hope of the resurrection.

Unlike the year prior when I wrote over 5,200 words on November 1^st, in 2010 I wrote just over 2,700. More than that my heart was not in the writing, so distracted was I waiting for the news. Amid the travel to Florida for the funeral, participating in the arrangements, grieving with family, and the funeral service, I wrote some each day. I wanted to retain some connection with my writing even as I was connecting with and grieving with my family.

By the time I returned home on November 6 I had reached just over 6,100 words. That is a lot of words but when compared to the year before I was way behind my output of 36242. Even in grief life goes on and I found the habit of writing in November assisted my ability to focus on something other than my grief and I did exceed the 50,000-word goal. I also knew my mother had been pleased with my writing so I also wrote in part to honor her memory.

But November 1^st remains difficult. The year after Mom’s death I told a friend my concern about writing on November first. She suggested I incorporate some of my mother’s characteristics into a character and so honor both my mother and my writing. That I did and exceeded my output from the prior year. Since then the malaise of grief hung over my first day of writing. I found myself procrastinating, checking email, Facebook, and games on my phone fascinated me. My reaction to this was self-recrimination. How could I waste this much time when I really want to write?

How? Because I am still grieving over the loss of my mother and five years later the loss of my father. After the excellent advice from my friend the first Nano after Mom’s death, I went into denial. As if by not thinking about or acknowledging the reality of November 1, 2010 I could somehow participate in the writing month as I had the years prior.

But grief does not work that way. No matter what I do to suppress my grief, it will rise to the surface one way or another. My procrastination in subsequent years was my subconscious grief telling me things were not the same as before—that things will never be the same. That’s what the transitions of life, especially death of a parent, do. They tell us of the inexorable progress, as a popular film expressed it: the circle of life.

Mom was the family matriarch as Dad was the patriarch. They lived to see the first of their great-grandchildren. Now in my family I am the patriarch and my wife the matriarch. We recently learned that grandchild number six is due next May around Mother’s Day. How better to honor my parent’s legacy than to provide a similar legacy to my children and grandchildren. I relish the time with my family and long to see them all grow, not just physically but also mentally, emotionally, socially, and spiritually.

To that end I will spend time with them, share my life with them, model life and living (including grieving), and shower them with love.

By facing my personal November 1 challenge, by acknowledging my grief and loss, by writing about it as I have here, my challenge becomes an opportunity to grow into the person I desire to be.

But –

I still miss you Mom.

I still miss you Dad.

I’ll see you both in the morning!

Reading style; writing style

 

When I share with friends I intended to write a blog on my Nano 2013 experience they looked at me oddly. Well, they already think me odd for attempting (and succeeding) to write a novel each November. “On top of all of that you are going to write more?” Sounds crazy right? But all writers have at least a smidge of one delusion—that of grandeur. The grandeur of creating a world, giving it life, and sharing that world with others. I grant I have that delusion.

As I think about their comments first I wonder if they aren’t right. It is crazy to write something besides my novel in November. When I considered a blog I decided I wouldn’t write the blog if I hadn’t written at least 1,677 words on my novel for the day. Even when I am ahead of pace to complete the novel I won’t start my blog until I’m done.

I also realize I have a peculiar reading pattern. Most people I know start reading a book and finish it before starting another. Not me. I have five or six books I read simultaneously. They are in a stack by my easy chair. I read a chapter from one book. When finished I put that book on the bottom and read a chapter from the next. Maybe I need the variety to keep me stimulated. Maybe I bore easily. But that is my pattern.

In my writing I see a parallel. For many years I have kept a daily (well almost always daily) journal. In this I incorporate observations on my life, what I read, and some prayers. Not once in the seven (now going on 8 years) of Nano have I skipped writing in my journal so I could work on my novel. While still writing (of a sort) it is different enough to keep my fresh when I go back to my novel.

The same applies to my blog. In my blog I am writing about my writing. The exercise keeps me sharp and while I continue to write. So this year I cycle through my three types of writing each day: my journal in which I write about my life experiences; my novel when I relish the creativity of telling my story; and by blog where I reflect on my writing experiences.

My desire is to be a writer. Not simply a novelist, but one who craft is words. And so today I write in the style which suits me.

The life giving paradox

 

My wife says I come alive in November. Something about getting the creative juices flowing sparks me on. I enjoy the story coming from my mind though my fingers and onto the screen. Even when I am not in a writing flow my story often seems to have a life of its own. I become pleased and often surprised at what happens and how my characters act and develop. When the story becomes alive almost independent of my conscious efforts how can I not get excited by what I create.

So, I feel life. I am excited about the chances I have to write and I look for ways to write. I am not one of those authors who hides his/her work and doesn’t share it with others. For me part of the process if letting some of the people closest to me in on my story.

First, they give me feedback. Generally they like what I write. Who doesn’t like affirmation and praise? I know I enjoy it. That first year when my wife asked me where were “her pages”? I felt such satisfaction and delight I willingly got out of bed and printed the pages. My wife also asks clarification when things don’t make sense to her. Most of the time she’s pointing out a structural weakness in my story. This helps me make a correction (or at least plan one) before I have to rework too much to make a correction.

Second, this takes (for me) the isolation out of writing. So much of my writing is done alone. Although I tend to be an introvert, I also need people. Desperately. So when I share my writing I break out of my internal world of me and become a part of us. Life involves interaction with others around me and for National Novel Writing Month to be life giving is not just that it gives life to me. It also enables me to share that life with others.

What a paradox. I write for myself. Yes, I hope one day to publish, but I still write for the pleasure I receive from the act of creating. What a sense of power (an almost divine power) to create a story where there wasn’t any moments ago; to see that story grow and expand; and to know it came from me. My thoughts and ideas have become a story—a story I want to share.

I give life to my stories—they give life back to me—and I in turn share that life with others.

One word at a time

An old Chinese proverbs says a journey of a thousand miles begins with one step. Today my writing seemed in line with that proverb.

I didn’t soar with a writing flow as I did a couple days ago. One the other hand I didn’t fight to get words written. The words came, but I seemed more to be plodding along, one word at a time. And that’s all I need to do, is it not? If I string enough “one word at a time” together I will eventually have a novel.

Today on my two hours commuter train I added just over 1,500 words. I the only time I wrote was on my commute in a week I’d have 7,500 words and after just ten weeks—that is a month and a half—by writing just on the train my total would be 75,000 words. I have heard that is the length of an author’s first novel. Theoretically if I kept up that pace I could write four or five novels in a year.

Now I know that’s not realistic. For what I write I must also edit and polish. Still I find the figures comforting. What I have viewed as a negative situation—my long commute—may in actuality be a wonderful opportunity to hone my writing craft. If I say I want to be a writer. If I aspire to be published. Then I will do what it takes to become what I want to be.

Yet it all boils down to writing one word at a time. Words form sentences; which in turn coalesce into paragraphs; paragraphs progress through scenes; when placed together become chapters; and ultimately a novel is birth.

Today I commit to the basic task of writing one word at a time.

Writer’s Challenges 2013 or self-distraction

 

One of the paradoxes of being a writer is that although I enjoy writing and when at times I seem to move into a zone outside my normal reality, I can easily find things to distract me. Is that lint on the carpet or a dead fly? Did I close my dresser drawer? Maybe I need another drink of tea? I’ve heard this not an uncommon phenomena for writers. At times anything is more compelling than sitting before the keyboard and composing.

In spite of this writer’s penchant for self-distraction I am facing some significant challenges for my National Novel Writing Month 2013. (Participants often call it Nano for short. By the way I am not in any way a representative of the event, nor do I speak for it. I’m simply sharing my experiences as one of hundreds of thousands of participants.)

One challenge is: what to write? I know what so different about that? My problem is not that I have no clue as to what I’ll write. I have too many clues. I am writing a science fiction series and have three plots going at the same time. I can continue any one of those OR write one of the back stories. Remember I’ve been kicking around plots in my mind for over forty years! (Good grief am I that old?) I have a day and a half to choose. I will write on November 1^st and this challenge will be over.

Let me introduce you to two children I’ll call them Rochelle and David. Rochelle is 4 and a half and David is 9 months. They are my grandchildren. And my wife babysits them during the day. Challenge number two comes because I have taken five vacation days in November to write. But I’ve just taken some vacation days I had to take (or lose them). I spent them playing with Rochelle and David. Get the problem? If I attempt my writing in the comfort of my home these two lovely children will want me to play with them. I can already hear Rochelle say, “Why are you writing a book—again?!” The local library or coffee shop may have to become my place of refuge.

As I write this blog I am on the commuter train in the Chicago area. Last February my company moved my office to a location in downtown Chicago (affectionately called the Loop). My commute now take two and a half hours one way (up from one hour one way). At least one hour each way is on the train where I can write. (Uh oh, must be pounding the keys took hard someone just gave me “the look” as I am on the “quiet car”. I want to say it’s a quiet car not a silent car but that would be rude and noisy). Although I can use the train time to write some I am tired by the time I get home at 6 PM and don’t have much energy. I’ll need to maximize my time on weekends and on those precious five days off.

None of these challenges are unsurmountable, but I will have focus on the goal of fifty thousand words—rather a complete story in my series.

Aspiring Author

Sometimes I say I am an aspiring author, but that is not exactly correct. An aspiring author talks about writing. An author writes.

I write and so am an author. When I refer to myself as an aspiring author I mean I would like to be a published author. Once again that is not exactly correct, as I have had numerous articles published and have self published one book. I’ve also had a historical fiction story published in a writer’s group anthology.

What I mean to say is that I am aspiring to publish my science fiction novels. I have written seven. Once each during November since 2006 under the inspiration of the National Novel Writing Month program (nanowrimo.org). This November I intended to write number 8! I hope to chronicle my novel writing experience throughout the upcoming month.

What I’d like to accomplish is inspire anyone one who might be an aspiring author to consider the National Novel Writing Month Challenge – write a 50,000 word novel in 30 days -and so transition from the aspiring author to the actual author. At least I’ll share my experiences so you can vicariously experience this challenge.