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November 09, 2006
17,985
I never thought I was competitive. Okay, there was that one time when I threw a tantrum because my husband beat me at Scrabble. But. He's an accountant. I'm a writer. It just wasn't right.
NaNoWriMo has changed my perspective. I find myself jumping eagerly out of my warm bed at Oh-dark-thirty, boiling water for green tea and then padding to my study to crank out at least 1600 words. Today was a little tough. I was treading water to get to 894. But I was not about to stop there. No self-respecting NaNo-er would! (Besides, I don't plan to be the one buying lattes at the end of the month!). So I slogged my way through stilted dialogue, muddy description and action that just plain sucked. The point is, I kept going, clocking in another 1772 words.
Now, are these 17,985 words brilliant? Something I'd show anyone else in the world? The be-all, end-all? No, no, NO! That is all beside the point. The point is I am putting words on paper. It's like I've spilled the jigsaw puzzle pieces out onto the table. When I've got them all out and turned right side up, I can begin putting the puzzle together. Until I get them all out and face up, there's not much point in assembling the puzzle.
And if it's all because latent competive genes are finally kicking into gear, good. I've never had so much fun creating a first draft before. I'm like Saul on the road to Damascus -- I was blind but now I see and I am spreading the gospel of writing by the seat of your pants to everyone I meet.
I'm telling you -- buy that inner critique a one-way ticket to Siberia and start cranking. The weekend's coming -- a couple long sessions at the keyboard and you could be on track to cross the November 30 finish line with a rough draft under your belt.
What do you have to lose?
Posted by kirby at November 9, 2006 09:11 PM
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