It is 7:30 pm, on Halloween, and I managed to finish this post. Sure, the laundry isn't done. I am a bit bloated from the candy. The image choice is uninspiring. And since I still have a load of candy to give away, I can't just shut down for the evening. So, I don't expect to get much else accomplished.
Yet, I have this blog post.
So, for the moment, I am happy.
(Okay, I changed my mind. I am going to include a better image. I was looking for a tavern scene, because I mention one below. This one is more rowdy than the one I wrote about. And a lot more fun.)
Today is Halloween. It is also the last day before November begins. Which means, tomorrow starts National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). I am not sure when I first became involved in this event, perhaps some time over the past ten years. The furthest I managed along in the month-long marathon, was 18,156 words for a novel called On Her Own. I remember, late one Thanksgiving, reclining alone on a couch in the log cabin my in-laws used to own, typing away as the seven or eight clocks would chime away the quarter, half-past, and full hours. And I remember losing myself in a particular scene just like the character in it, following the dancing embers of a dying fire, with friends she may never see again, while the last drinks of the night were passed out among the remaining tavern patrons. Despite such moments of furious creativity and intense elation, and like most of my personal goals, I never saw it through.
Perhaps, it was not my time to write novels. Maybe I needed to start smaller. Enter this blog. It has been eighteen months since I started this writing project. And while it has not changed all that much (I guess I am still stuck in the "lifestyle" category), and I have skipped weeks here and there, I may be time to shift gears. That does not mean suspending my Sunday postings, or my daily journal entries. Instead, I will be adding a writing goal of about 1,700 words a day, with the intent of drafting a novel. It will not be pretty, or even coherent. But it will be out there, instead of inside my head. And I can prove to myself I can accomplish this task.
(I have at least seven novels floating up there.)
There are better ways to approach a goal likes this. Ones that are slow and methodical. Begin with a summary. Then focus on character descriptions. Maybe a timeline of the plot. Produce an outline, then break everything into chunks. Move along, one chunk at a time. Go back and review with each step completed. Revise and edit as necessary. And after a few months, I should have a working draft.
But there is something to be said about jumping right into it. Arms flailing, completely naked. Toss the plans aside. Forget baby steps. Screw revisions. Instead, point in the direction you want to go (50,000 words in one month), set one target (1700 words a day), choose a time of day (six in the morning), and go!
Why not let the lunacy of it all ignite my motivation. And, for me, all the forty-plus years of daydreaming, fuel my story.
Should I fall flat on my face, oh well. It will not be the first time, nor the last.
However, should I reach halfway, that has to be worth a new writing habit or two.
50,000? In one month? That is a novel's worth of characters, plots, and dialogues for future use.
First, though, I have to wake up tomorrow morning, and start typing.
Good luck to me!
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