Showing posts with label Chuck Wendig. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chuck Wendig. Show all posts

Sunday, November 6, 2016

Notes on NaNoWriMo

That’s the acronym for National Novel Writing Month. The goal? “a fun, seat-of-your-pants approach to creative writing. On November 1, participants begin working towards the goal of writing a 50,000-word novel by 11:59 PM on November 30.” 


According to Chuck Wendig, this computes to “at least 1,666 words per day over the 30 day period.” And he notes that lots of those words won’t be good, and that a more realistic word count for a novel is 70,000. So what’s the value of this?

Tip: Most writers have bad habits. And most writers benefit from identifying and breaking them.

The majority of writers are serious enough and smart enough to know that novel writing is rarely easy or lucrative. Perhaps they’ve already heard the Ernest Hemingway quote: “There’s nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein.”

If someone clever and conscientious has critiqued a novelist, then he or she has bravely or miserably learned the truth that “Writing is easy to do, but hard to master.” —  Jeff Goins, “5 Hard Truths about Writing” 

And the solution to “Writing a good book, compared to a bad one, involves one thing. Work.” —Jeff Berkun, “How to Write a Book—the Short Honest Truth”

How does this relate to NaNoWriMo, which involves piling up the words, then revising those words you piled up? Depending on your schedule, writing process, and comfort level, this month offers an opportunity to diagnose habits and decide might change. Recognize any of these?
  • I’m planning. That’s writing.
  • I'm scheduling when I'll write. That’s writing.
  • I’m depressed; I can’t write.
  • I’m ecstatic; I can’t write.
  • I only have two and one-half hours, so there’s no point starting.
  • I can only write if nothing distracts me.
  • I promised I’d write for ninety minutes and I’m already five over. I get to stop.
  • I can only write when I’m inspired.
  • I can only write when I know exactly where the scene is going.
  • I can only write under ideal conditions.
Really? Really? In Marge Piercy’s superb poem, “For the Young Who Want to,” she reminds us that

The real writer is one
who really writes. Talent
is an invention like phlogiston
after the fact of fire.
Work is its own cure. You have to
like it better than being loved.


Why not use this month to identify the ways you postpone writing? So you can write more. It’s never relaxing, might even be costly. How many of us applaud our efforts, thinking, “I couldn’t possibly have done better”? Yet, as novelist Chitra Divakaruni put it, “The question is what you would give up for your writing.” Want to use this month to find out?

Sunday, March 6, 2016

Don’t Ditch Your Novel

Rejections. You might think you prepared yourself. You probably didn’t. The longer you worked on a book and the harder you hoped, the more it hurts. It might hurt worse that loved ones who aren’t writers don’t completely understand. The clash between book and business is an ugly one. Suddenly you’re a wordsmith without the words to communicate disappointment—the pain.

Clichés you would normally never use fill your tortured mind. “I can’t believe how bad this hurts!” “My insides are emptied out.” “It’s like being kicked in the stomach.” “No one will ever love my book.” “No one understands me.” “I’m a failure!”

But after all the time, energy, and heart you already invested, does it make sense to cower in a corner? Lick your wounds in the dark? Of course not. Grace Hopper, a Navy Rear Admiral born in 1930, who surely had her share of disappointments, said, “A ship in port is safe, but that’s not what ships are built for.” Didn’t you build your book for readers? Go get some.

Tip: Don’t give up on your book too soon. Watch out how you define “too soon.”

If it feels as if you’re starting fifty steps below square one, read Chuck Wendig’s superb blog on rejection at terribleminds.com. And try these.

~ Remember why you want to be a writer—and why you poured your heart into this book.
           “You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.” ― Ray Bradbury

~ Maintain your sense of humor.
            Here’s what they told Dr. Seuss about “And to Think That I Saw It on Mulberry Street:
“Too different from other juveniles on the market to warrant its selling.”

~ Learn from any criticism you’re lucky enough to receive.
“Every rejection is incremental payment on your dues that in some way will be translated back into your work.” – James Lee Burke

~ Stand up straight. Don’t slouch.
“I would advise anyone who aspires to a writing career that before developing his talent he would be wise to develop a thick hide.” — Harper Lee

~ Redirect your emotions.
“Was I bitter? Absolutely. Hurt? You bet your sweet ass I was hurt. Who doesn’t feel a part of their heart break at rejection. You ask yourself every question you can think of, what, why, how come, and then your sadness turns to anger. That’s my favorite part. It drives me, feeds me, and makes one hell of a story.” — Jennifer Salaiz

~ Write something.
It’s fine to start out negative. But swiftly assume figure skater mentality. If you fall, get right up and execute the next leap. That’s what skaters and writers do. After all, “A blank piece of paper is God’s way of telling us how hard it to be God.” — Sidney Sheldon