NANOWRIMO DAY 25: THE BOOK IS YOUR @^&$*

At the start of this month, I said I was going to try to blog every day about NaNoWriMo. I did, however, put in all kinds of conditions: I was moving, I was traveling, hamsters, etc. So I’ve only managed to do four or five blogs. Now it’s the 25th day, and I’m jumping back in the game!

This relates directly to today’s question. When I put out my call for topics, I immediately got 20 or 30 people asking questions like, “I’ve only done 6,000 words! Do I even keep going?” Or, “I haven’t written for a week! Should I give up?”

Clearly, a lot of people are finding that they haven’t hit their target wordcounts and the panic is starting to set in. So, today, let’s talk about what you do when you are REALLY, REALLY BEHIND, and address the “should I keep going?” question.

Listen to a story . . .

When I was a very small mj, I had a best friend named Hortence.* Hortence and I were best friends because we lived next to each other. That was all. It was a friendship of convenience, as all friendships are when you are four years old. Hortence was bigger than me, and her parents were hippies and had all kinds of awesomely relaxed standards. This meant that in Hortence’s house, we could play with ANYTHING at ANY TIME. (This included tools. Nothing says safety like a six year old with a hammer.)

We also listened to music and made up complicated dance routines with props. There was a song we loved called “Centerfold.” Centerfold is a story about a guy who was in love with a girl in high school, who later finds out that she is the current centerfold in a magazine full of NAKED LADIES. And for some reason, this destroys his mind a little.

Here is the video, in case you don’t know it.

There is a line in the song that goes, “Slipped me notes under the desk, while I was thinking about her dress.” Hortence always thought this line was “FLOWERS thinking about her dress.” Now, when I was a tiny mj, I did not understand what the song was about, really. I was pretty confused about why the man was so upset to see a girl he knew in a magazine. But I could speak basic English. So I knew that part Hortence had worked into her routine with the plastic flower was pointless. To be fair, it does sound like the singer is saying FLOWERS thinking about her dress, but (as I pointed out to Hortence), flowers do not think about dresses. Flowers do not think at all.

We were debating this on the swings (we did a lot of talking on the swings). We had to be in each other’s dance routines, of course, and I was refusing to do anything with the plastic flower because the flower was just NOT IN THE SONG. Hortence, master debater that she was, said, “He does TOO say flowers because . . .”

And then she pushed me backwards off the swings. This was how we resolved 90% of our debates.**

I much preferred this approach to Hortence’s other method of punishing me and making me go along with her plans—namely, she would revoke my toy privileges. See, her grandmother worked at a toy factory*** so she had pretty much every cool toy there was. And if I crossed her authority, she would simply tell me I was no longer allowed to play with something. Usually her Suckerman. I LOVED Suckerman. Suckerman was this rubbery demon-sea monster thing covered in twenty-eight suction cups. You pulled on his arms and then you threw him against the wall. He would stick and kind of roll down and stick and roll down and stick and then fall off the wall. It was genius.



Suckerman

So if Hortence REALLY wanted to let me know who was in control, she would say, “You can’t touch Suckerman.” And then she would put him right in front of me. Those of you with siblings might have had the good sense to just reach forward and TAKE the Suckerman, but as far as I was concerned, there was a MAGICAL DOME over Suckerman that my hand could not penetrate. I would just sit there and stare at it sadly.

Hortence’s mojo was so powerful she could occasionally put the magical no-touch dome over MY TOYS. “But that’s mine,” I would say. And she would just shrug and say, “You can’t touch it.” Finally, on one of those occasions, when she put the dome over my Rubik’s Cube, I broke with convention and took it back! And then she grabbed it back from me and threw it on top of our neighbor’s shed. I eventually got it back, but not before it rained. It was never quite the same. So I never crossed her again.

I was, in short, her b%^&h.

Why am I telling you this? I will explain. See, sometimes when you are working on a book, you feel like you are the book’s b%^#h. Like the book holds you under its sway. Like it owns YOU. Sometimes it puts the magical dome over itself and says, “You can’t work on me. I’m too hard.”

The reality is that the book is YOUR b%^#h.**** There is no magical dome. It cannot throw itself on top of the neighbor’s shed. YOU are in charge at all times. YOU make the book. Sometimes it is hard but YOU are still in control. No muses or magical writing pandas.***** It’s very easy to get worked up about how tricky and finicky writing is, how it requires special conditions. NO IT DOESN’T. You need time and something to write with and a little gumption. And, if possible a snack.

And the same is true with NaNoWriMo. Sure, yes, it’s great to meet the deadline at the end and hit that 50,000 word mark on the 30th. But NaNoWriMo is a great tool to get you writing and IT TOO is your b%^#h. Don’t use the fact that you are currently a little bit behind as an excuse to stop. This is your opportunity to finish a book. So finish a book! DO IT. Set new dates for your own personal NaNoWriMo and push on.

No matter what, my answers to these questions will ALWAYS be that you should keep writing.

I am also informed that I am required by law to tell you something. Today, Let it Snow—a book I wrote with John Green and Lauren Myracle—made it on to the New York Times bestseller list. The status of “New York Times Bestselling author” has long eluded me. It wasn’t the be-all, end-all goal of my life. I was perfectly happy not ever having that title. But today, I do have it, and I get to KEEP it forever. And it is actually kind of awesome.

And I got here by just plugging away and writing. Okay, and maybe there was ONE magical writing panda. But whatever.



* Not her actual name, of course. I have changed it on the grounds that she can still beat me up, because . . .
** Hortence is now, and I kid you not, a professional boxer.
*** Again . . . no, REALLY, she did.
**** I look forward to you quoting me to your English teachers on this point.
***** I am not sure how prevalent the belief in magical writing pandas actually is.

THE LOST SYMBOL READERS’ GUIDE: THE FINAL INSTALLMENT

Friends, it’s been almost a month since I have delivered an installment of this saga. The delay was mostly due to my move. You can’t move and absorb the mysteries of The Lost Symbol, because the human psyche is only capable of so much. So if you need a refresher, here are parts one, two, three, four, and five.

When we last left them . . . Mal’akh had gotten everything he wanted and had Katherine and HSRL in the basement of his evil lair. Katherine was hooked up to something you mind find at an evil bloodbank . . . a machine that slowly drained her dry. And HSRL WAS DEAD! We saw his body sink to the bottom of the tank, like one of those little pirate chests they put in fishtanks.

Now, back to the action.

Chapters 109-110

CIA director Inoue “Evil Yoda” Sato and her crack team have swooped down on Mal’akh’s Palace of Fun. Sato commands one of her minions to find the computer. Said minion goes to the desk and stares at it in bafflement. It LOOKS like a computer should be there, but there is none! Where could it be? What kind of evil mastermind has a computer that you can just PICK UP AND CARRY AWAY? What kind of monster are they DEALING with?

Sato tells him it was a laptop, makes mental note to stop hiring people from the room with the rounded scissors. No wonder she is so cranky and wizened!

In the rumpus room in the furnished basement, Katherine is still hooked up to the bleeding machine, and RL is apparently STILL NOT DEAD. As he clings to life, he runs through some Latin phrases. This is the kind of thing he usually does while trying to run from a hail of bullets while wearing loafers, or trying to escape a major national monument in loafers, or trying to get away from a swooping helicopter in loafers . . . but since there isn’t a lot to do at the bottom of a tank as your brain is about to explode, going through Latin phrases is as good a way to pass the time as any.

Chapter 111

We flashback to what seems like a scene from Stupid Harvard* (but it’s actually Stupid Phillips Exeter Academy, which is a feeder school for Stupid Harvard—and from what I can tell, from there it’s pretty much a straight line to Sato’s team—IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW). Here again we see the overeager arm raising, the giddy excitement at slide shows, the shouting out of names of countries and other nouns.

At the heart of the action is Peter Solomon, who’s there to tell these dim bulbs about the wonders of the Smithsonian. In the process, one of the students confronts Peter and wants to know if he is a Mason. She has Googled him! This one will go far! He admits that yes, he is a Mason. But aren’t the Masons some kind of creepy, weirdo organization of creepy weirdos? Not so, says Peter.

DB proceeds to slice up and plate the juicy fact-meat that he so loves to serve. We learn that the Masons are awesome and not weird at all, and that everything you know is wrong. So there, suckers.

Chapter 112

Downstairs, the CIA is disconnecting Katherine from the bleeding machine, so if you were worried about that, don’t be.

Meanwhile, wretched, crab-like Sato is descending into the hidden basement, where one of her agents is pointing out HSRL’s tweed coat and loafers, which are on the floor! His uniform! His loafers! Then she approaches the tank and looks through the plexiglass and sees a FLOATING, SUBMERGED HSRL!

Now, I know what you are thinking . . . you are thinking, “HSRL has been in that tank for a while, totally submerged, so he MUST be dead. He MUST be.” But Sato knows different. She knows that he is alive. HOW he is alive—well, we’ll get to that in a minute. But think about this. You’ve found HSRL in a tank of liquid in a hidden basement. Now, I don’t know about you, but if I had stumbled upon this scene, I would have turned to my idiot agent and said, “We’re going to go back upstairs and cement over that door. Then I’m buying YOU a chocolate milk and you’re going to promise me never to tell anyone about this.” But DB knows best and doesn’t give in to baser instincts like these. So instead we are given a scene of a naked HSRL, born again, blinded by light, and mistaking the face of Sato for the face of God.

And now . . . the science. DB is not precious with this next section. It moves with the grace of a ballgown trimmed in hammers, but we must get through it to understand the bit about the tank. That tank was filled with oxygenated perfluorocarbons, a new technology known as Total Liquid Ventilation (TLV). Yes, breathable liquid! The science goes on for about two more pages, which contain the only known quasi-academic reference to the 1989 movie “The Abyss.”

Then we get a full HSRL rebirthing scene, and as soon as he is out—he’s talking Latin. I’m not going to lie—Chapter 112 is a bruiser. But no one said this would be easy.

Chapters 113-124

Katherine, of course, believes that she has just seen HSRL die, so she is as surprised as any when he shows up all drippy and towely. “How?” she asks. Sato is about to do the whole “oxygenated perfluorocarbons, have you seen The Abyss?” thing again when Katherine pulls a “Just shut up and hold me!” (To HSRL, not Sato.) HSRL has, once again, not saved her. Our hero is beloafered and an easy bleeder, and he doesn’t rescue much, but he knows his Latin!

While in the tank, he realized that Mal’akh is after the MAGIC WORD! That’s what this has all been about! He’s run off with the pyramid, but RL figures out that he is going to Heredom (which is Greek, actually). Heredom is a mythical mountain in Scotland! But it’s ALSO the nickname of a building in Washington DC!

In the interests of time, I realize I must seriously condense what happens from here on in.

While becoming an initiate in the Masons, bald, shaven Mal’akh was wearing a wig. And in that wig . . . WAS A CAMERA! Yes, the wig cam captured it all, and Mal’akh has edited it together into the most badass and viral Youtube video since Keyboard Cat. This video shows half of Washington drinking what looks like blood out of what looks like a skull, committing what looks like murder, throwing what look like dead bodies into coffins. But, DB goes to great lengths to explain, this is all playacting and the Masons are pretty much the most awesome organization, ever. If this were the prom, you know how there’s always one couple in the middle of the floor that makes out the WHOLE DANCE, even during the fast songs? Well, if you could replace that couple with DB and the Masons, and the prom was The Lost Symbol . . . then HSRL would be the DJ. I think. All you need to know is that THE MASONS ARE AWSEOME EVEN THOUGH THEY SEEM REALLY WEIRD.

So forget Peter Solomon. Who cares if he dies? This wig cam video must be stopped!

Meanwhile, Mal’akh is wheeling Peter Solomon around DC in a wheelchair. Peter has been rebirthed about three times tonight. Having stolen the magical pyramid, soaked Peter in a tank and severed his hand, tattooed himself, fed Trish Dunne to the giant squid, killed a few guards, hooked Katherine up to the bleeding machine, and pickled HSRL . . . the extremely prolific Mal’akh is now about to conclude his evening by getting the magic word he has so longed for. Then all he has to do is tattoo it on his head, prepare the creepy sacrificial table in the skylight of the Heredom, and use the ACTUAL BIBLICAL KNIFE from the story of Abraham and Isaac that he has obtained from ebay. But WHO IS TO DIE?

Meanwhile, HSRL is zooming around the streets of DC, shouting directions from the backseat, and Sato sits in a helicopter, gnawing at her horrible talons. People are running from every possible direction. It’s BEDLAM. Cats and dogs living together, etc.

You aren’t going to believe this, but Mal’akh? Is PETER SOLOMON’S LOST SON ZAC. Except now he’s crazy and tattooed and he wants Peter to sacrifice him just like Abraham was asked to sacrifice his son in the Bible and Peter is all oh nooooooo. But it’s okay, because the helicopter crashes through the skylight and kills Mal’akh with a zillion shards of glass, but not before Mal’akh can hang on for a few scenes of WTF? Because, to be fair, he has gone to a LOT of effort.

Oh, and the wig cam video goes out! Except, it doesn’t! Because Sato stops it with some helicopter-fu! HSRL runs in at the end and is all, “Hey, guys.”

Chapter 125

Key lines between Katherine and HSRL:

Katherine walked up and embraced him warmly. “How can I ever thank you?”

He laughed. “You know I didn’t do anything, right?”

And there you go.

Chapters 126-130

It’s a symbolpalooza! I can’t really remember any of it, but you’re going to LOVE it!

Chapter 131

We learn that many great thinkers were convinced that the Bible contained the Ancient Mysteries, but not in the literal words—that the words on the pages were codes, and that the Bible is comprised of heavy-handed and useless story covering up something much more important and interesting. I get the feeling that DB is trying to tell me something, but I am not biting, reader.

Chapters 132-Epilogue

HRSL gets the best tour of Washington DC, ever, because Peter Solomon can apparently get in anywhere. Like, if he wanted to see the President’s underwear drawer, he could see it. He exacts a kind of passive-aggressive revenge on HSRL by blindfolding him and taking him to enclosed spaces and up high stairs and on to scary balconies, all under the pretense of showing him a good time, which is pretty slick in my opinion. Also, he seems to have recovered from his son’s second death and his own hand-severing/rebirthing pretty well, but then again, it has been four hours or something.

Anyway, we get to see that Washington DC has a lot of high, dark, creepy spaces, and apparently the founding fathers had WAY too much time on their hands . . . which is surprising, considering that they were busy creating a whole new country, and laws, and currency and everything. But they also took the time to make a whole PUZZLE CITY that no one knows about!

Oh, and by the way, the lost word is actually a lost symbol, and that lost symbol is a circle with a dot inside of it. But there also is a word, and that word is buried in the cornerstone of the Washington Monument. That’s the answer. You’re welcome.

THE END


* See Part Two to learn about Stupid Harvard, which is where HSRL teaches. I know this means it should have been SHSRL all along, but it is too late now.

NANOWRIMO DAY EIGHT: BY THE NUMBERS

shopoholic309 asks: I only have 1000 words written for NANO. Problem? Should I give up already?

Give up? GIVE UP? On the 8th of November? When you have 22 days to go?

Think about it this way: so, you have 49,000 words left to write. Originally, you had to write approximately 1,666.6 words a day. Now you have to write 2,227.2 words a day. Which is a difference of just 560.6 words a day. 560.6 words? That’s, like, a sentence! Okay, it’s like a paragraph. Maybe a page. Okay, it’s like a blog answer. I will MAKE this answer 560.6 words long to show you that it is not a big deal to do that many extra words a day. At the moment, I’m at 109 words. Well, 109 was actually the 110th word. And just telling you that has gotten me up to 128 words! Which is about one-quarter of the way! See how this just zips along?

I mean, maybe you’re thinking of when you get an essay assignment and it’s like, “Write 3000 words on which kind of wood is best for eating.” And you’re like, “Oh my god, how am I am going to write 3,000 words?” Because the task already seems hard (the answer, by the way, is balsa—and also whatever my bed was made out of when I was little because I used to crawl out every night and chew on the footboard) . . . when you add a NUMBER to it, it just makes it seem scarier. But numbers, like guns, cannot hurt you. Numbers don’t kill people—math kills people.

Speaking of Numbers . . . have you ever seen that show Numb3rs? Which they actually spell with a 3? In that show, numbers can solve crime. Like, any crime. You can just feel how that show was pitched: “Okay, so, it’s an FBI show . . . but, like, the one agent? Has this brother? Who’s like, a crazy MATH GENIUS? And the FBI guy pulls in his brother and then EVERY WEEK there’s, like, a MATH PROBLEM at the center of the show? And then all of these genius professors will, like, explain math? And we’ll run some mathy graphics in the background so it all seems legit. It’ll be like CSI, but for nerds. Nerds and shut ins.”



The graphics are almost certainly meaningless, but no one cares.

Numb3rs is not a very good show, but it is an example of how numbers can be our friends. And also how we can use numbers in our spelling. For example, I could start spelling my name “Maur33n Johns7.” I won’t, but I could. By the way, I am counting that caption in the word count, which is now 443—which INCLUDES the number 443, which is a real number and not my attempt to spell a word with numbers. (Or numb3rs.)

My point, shopaholic309 (it’s like you KNEW I was going to start spelling names with numbers!) is that you definitely can’t give up before you even start, and you can’t let a little thing like 560.6 words get in the way of your DREAMS. If you want to write, don’t let yourself be scared off. There are a million excuses to make to keep from sitting down and writing. A big part of the battle is just ignoring those things and getting down to business. Don’t let a little thing like 560.6 words get in your wa . . .

NANOWRIMO DAY THREE: POINTS OF WHAT?

NANOWRIMO DAY 3: POINTS OF VIEW

Hello, friends! Today I come to you LITERALLY from the middle of the move (on a STOLEN SIGNAL). I am sitting on the floor, in the corner, with my computer on my lap as men come in and out and take my things away. At some point, they may just pick me up and take ME away, so if I cut off abruptly, that is what happened. So forgive if today is a little short. But there is a fine, fine question to be answered:

April asks: How do I decide what point of view to write from?

I’m assuming you all know what POV is, right? A quick explanation if you don’t:

First person: the narrator speaks to you directly. This is the “I” perspective.

Second person: the main character is filtered through you. “You go to the store, but they have no hamster pellets in stock. You return home and do some dancing.” It’s not very common, and I have personally never used it.

Third person: this is the “he/she/it” perspective. Third comes in various forms—you may only tell what the characters do and say, but never go into their minds (third person objective). You may follow the story from just one character’s viewpoint (third person limited), or from a handful of selected characters (third person multiple). Or you may be the all-knowing voice that can get into anyone’s head or any scene (third person omniscient).

Okay, so, there’s that. Now, how do you CHOOSE? This is a question I have been asking myself recently, as I am starting an entirely new book series, and I was playing with both first and third person. And I’ve written five books in third and one (Devilish) in first.

Usually, I ask myself two questions, and not necessarily in this order:

1. How much do I want the main character and the reader to know?

When you write in third, you can be the big, strong, smart narrator who knows it all, and you gain the ability to develop the narrative voice separately from the character’s voice. You can do your descriptions and evaluate the situation from higher perspective. You also gain the ability to move places and to gain information that the main character might not be privy to.

2. How will my main character impact the telling of the story?

When you write as the main character, you have the advantage of just talking like them . . . which means you get their speech patterns, their way of describing and looking at any situation they encounter. If your character has a very strong personality, a clear way of looking at the world, you can really use first with great impact. Also, first person narration can get away with more tangential stuff, as the character can start talking about whatever he/she/it feels like, when it wouldn’t be terribly relevant from a third person point of view.

For example, say you have to describe the main character’s room. Now, the way you do that in first and in third is very different. In first, you have to kind of give the character a reason for describing something they probably know very well, then you have to think about how that room appears to them. What is their attitude toward it? What matters to them? Maybe when they go into their room it makes them think about some time that they went to the circus, or the time they accidentally started a fire, or a philosophical concept he/she/it is obsessed with. Whatever you want, you can do it.

In third, you need less justification for descriptions, and you can filter the room in any way you like. You don’t have to assume familiarity. You can also use BIG WORDS that your character might not really use. Authorspeak is handy like that.

So, I kind of weigh the checks and balances . . . do I need unlimited access and FANCY VOICE, or do I want to tell this story in the voice of the person living it. (Because in first, that voice and view is an essential part of the shape of the story. See Catcher in the Rye, The Great Gatsby, Paper Towns, Liar, or a million other awesome books to see the power of first.)

I COULD say more on this topic and I am writing this very quickly but the room is now EMPTY. But . . . I totally made it! I did it! I blogged on moving day! And since there is much more to say on this topic, WHY NOT DO IT IN THE COMMENTS? Okay, I’ve got to . . .

. . . oh, I’m being put in a box . . .

*sound of stuffing, tape dispensing*

NANOWRIMO DAY TWO: WHERE THE SUCKMONSTER ROAMS

Listen you guys . . . I am about to lay something critical on you. I am probably not supposed to be telling you this. I am going to get myself in trouble with the League of Real Writers. But you know that I am always compelled to tell you the truth. I won’t tell everyone, but I will tell YOU, friends. Just you. So here goes.

If you want to be a Real Writer, you must learn the fine art of the excuse. Observe:

So, you know how I said yesterday, on the first day of NaNoWriMo, that I would try to give advice EVERY DAY? Well, you may have to cut me SOME slack this week because I am moving tomorrow. Everything I own is in boxes, and after I finish writing this, my desk is going to be taken away and I will have NOTHING. And the cable appointment got messed up so I won’t even have my own internet until sometime on Thursday, so until then I’ll be sneaking around my new building trying to bogart some signal through the walls. Hopefully no one will paint with that special paint that blocks signals, and everyone will have nice, non-password-protected wifi.

Plus, I just found out that the new desk doesn’t come until Friday, so until then I will be a DESKLESS FREAK with NO SIGNAL in a WORLD OF BOXES. Plus my mailbox key doesn’t work. And I have to get this thing for my intercom. And I have to go out and all kinds of STUFF so that I can live like a normal person, like a shiny new trashcan. You guys—I NEED A TRASHCAN.

So this week is a bit special. But will I TRY? Oh, I will try! But if service is a little on and off for a few days, that is why.*

Now, you see, that is a pretty solid excuse. Moving your entire house and not having anywhere to sit and having to let movers in and shove boxes around and not having a buzzer or a key or any clothes or a trashcan . . . sometimes, life happens, and you have to deal with the life stuff completely. Many of you will face a few days this month that are simply so full or otherwise out of control that you won’t be able to write. And that’s fine. Those days often give you something to write ABOUT.

And also? You make up for it. Because when it comes to meeting the mark, aim for NO EXCUSES. Now, I realize that this probably seems like it runs counter to my previous statements about excuses, but hear me out. You have to allow for bumps and problems and days that are just slow or rough going. You can and will make up for them. For all the days I have been moving, I have found and replaced the time in my writing schedule, because my book is still due when it is due. It will still get done at the same time. If you get sick and miss a few days, if you start late, if you have to go away for a weekend, if someone needs your help, if you house is swept away in a tornado and you land in a magical kingdom . . . don’t worry. You’ll get back on track JUST LIKE ME.

Now, let’s get to today’s question.

Rachel asks: I've always loved writing and definitely consider becoming an author a goal of mine, this said, I think it would be a good idea for me to do NaNoWriMo. However, I don't think I have the time to do it (high school is way to stressful) and don't have a clear outline of a book ready at all. I have an idea for a book but I don't know if I like it or where it's going. Should I attempt it, knowing I'll probably fail, or not have the time necessary to complete it, or do it anyways?

I think you should definitely do it. Here is why:

1. No one has the time. (See above story for clarification, and just pretend I never said that part about missing a few days.**) You make the time if you want to write. If you do not want to write, you do not make the time. So if your goal is to become an author, start giving the time now.

2. No one knows what they are doing when they start out. Before you write a book, you do not know how to write a book. Catchy, and true.

3. There is no way of putting this delicately, so I am just going to shove it out there . . . if you are in high school or are otherwise just starting out, MUCH OF WHAT YOU WRITE IS GOING TO SUCK. This is because you learn to write while writing. So for a while, you have to embrace the Suckmonster. Hug it close to you. Love your Suckmonster, because your Suckmonster is going to help you get where you want to go. He is your friend and traveling companion. He’s friendly and furry and Muppet-like. Picture him clearly in your head now. Take a moment.

Do you see the Suckmonster? Isn’t he cute? Why not give your Suckmonster a name? That should kill a few minutes!



You have a friend. He's right there with you!

See, where the Suckmonster roams, progress is often made. A good sentence here, a clear idea there, maybe a great paragraph, and then a great page. But first, you have to try, and you cannot fear or avoid the Suckmonster. Because his presence doesn’t indicate failure. Every good writer I know has a friendly Suckmonster on a leash.

Really, the only way you can fail is not even trying in the first place. So don’t worry about how much you like it or where it’s going . . . just START.

I hope that encourages you, and that if necessary, I can come and live in your house. Until . . . soon. And please, continue to send your QUESTIONS.



* This means if I DO succeed, you should be extra impressed.
** Because, no, seriously . . . I AM MOVING. And I have totally done my 50,000 words many times over. If a marathon runner needed three days to get, like, a new FOOT BONE or something, would you give them @#$%? No. Of course you wouldn’t.

NANOWRIMO BEGINS

Can you believe it! It’s November, which means it’s time for NaNoWriMo—National Novel Writing Month, in which something like 100,000 people have signed up to sit in a chair (or stand, if you like, or recline, or maybe suspend yourself from the ceiling, as I would like to do) for an entire month and string together approximately 1,666 words per day. That’s 50,000 words by the end of the month.



It’s time to BUCKLE YOUR SEAT BELTS and GET IN THE CHAIR.

Since writing is WHAT I DO, and since I love to provide SERVICES, I will be answering NaNoWriMo advice questions and attempting to dispense some advice EVERY DAY.*

You may be asking yourself, “mj, are you actually DOING NaNoWriMo this year?”

My friends, I am always doing NaNoWriMo. I will be writing many, many words in November, but I will not be listed on the official ranks because I will not be uploading what I write. This is because those 50,000 words belong to a book that is already under contract, a book that is already well underway. I’ll be writing a lot, and you’ll be able to see those words eventually, when the book is out.

But trust me, I’m going to be coughing up a LOT of words.

And now, the first NaNoWriMo question . . .

Samuel asks: Hey! I'd love to read your advice of having/developing a writing habit -- more to the point, I'm curious if you treat it like a job (i.e. always writing at the same time every day, no distractions). For people who work a full time job and struggle with kids/pets/pants, what advice do you have for making sure the writing gets done too?

I like the phrase “writing habit.” All writers start with a “writing habit,” which is admittedly pretty weird and antisocial, but is still better than an “arson habit” or a “loud whistling” habit. If you really want to write, you have to make it habitual—and NaNoWriMo can help you develop it.

It’s ALSO a job. Well, it’s my job. And I do treat it as such, and proudly. Personally, I don’t write at the same exact time every day. My job has flexible hours. But I generally work 6-7 days a week, and at weird times when other people aren’t working. Because writing is my habit as well as my job, it’s just part of the continuum of my life.

But I think your main question is: how can you schedule in all that writing when you have ANOTHER job, and a family, and a life? How can you make it all work? HOW IS THIS GOING TO BE POSSIBLE? There are hamsters to feed and shiny things to collect and people who will want to talk to you and phone calls that need returning . . .
To answer this, let’s return to the idea of the job. When I first got serious about making myself a professional, about making writing my life, I decided to MAKE it my job, even though I had two full-time jobs at the moment. I begged, borrowed, and stole the time. I wrote whenever I could, under whatever conditions, making sure I clocked a minimum of two hours a day, if not four or six. I was a pretty terrible employee, but I was developing the correct attitude about writing!

Writing doesn’t come to you. It doesn’t just hand itself over on a plate. And it’s not magic. I do not, for instance, believe in muses. I believe in work and practice. Writing has always been a craft, and there is nothing wrong with viewing it as a job, something you must do. Shakespeare was a workman playwright (notice the “wright”), after all. It means “maker” or “builder.” It means WORKER.

I realize this idea of writing as a job conflicts with portrayals of writers on tv and in film, where the writers are usually these weird creative types that are always sawing on about something esoteric, hammering away about their inspirations in their special writing studio. Perhaps they are wearing a beret.

Writers on TV and in films are shown this way because ACTUAL WRITING IS VERY BORING TO WATCH. Oh, it’s good to DO, but it is not something you want to see in action. Actual writing involves the aforementioned sitting/reclining/dangling and WRITING. Sure, some places are nicer to write in than others. For example, at this very moment, I happen to be sitting on a lovely porch overlooking some trees and woodland creatures, but this is only because I am at a wedding that is at an inn.

Notice that part in which I am AT A WEDDING. The wedding is in 90 minutes, and I am jamming this session of writing in between a long car ride, some lunch, and the ceremony. I usually write at home, or with friends who are also writers, or on the subway, in a car, on a plane, in the airport . . . I have snuck my computer into my beachbag. I have written in hospitals and on buses and in traffic.

Many of the most prolific writers I know write while raising children or working other jobs. This is because they have to LASER-FOCUS their writing into set times, and they make those times work. When I’m backed into a corner, I tend to get more done. It’s like that old saying about how if you want something done, give it to someone with too much to do. Or Robert Benchley’s quote that anyone can do any amount of work, provided that it’s not the work you are supposed to be doing at the time.

So if you are doing NaNoWriMo while working another job or going to school . . . YOU ARE SET! You simply have to blow off about two hours of your other work every day and write! You will find this kind of finkery is a time-honored tradition amongst writers, who are by nature a sneaky, nocturnal group. You are joining the proud ranks of People Who Write When They Are Supposed To Be Doing Other Things (PWWWTASTBDOT).



We cannot entirely be trusted.

Though 1,666 words SOUNDS like a lot, you will find that it comes easier with time. Because when writing becomes your habit, you’ll be able to press on, press faster, and press harder. You will not be frightened by word counts. You should find that’s true even within this month. NaNoWriMo is a great way of SNAPPING YOU LIKE A TINY TWIG, and I mean that in the best way possible. Use the train. Use the bus. Use lunch. Use 5th period Spanish** Use TV time. Use mindless internet surfing time. Make writing your job. Be proud.

Have questions? Please leave them below! And to anyone who is wondering . . . YES, the final installment of The Lost Symbol Readers’ Guide is coming soon! Why isn’t it done yet? I WAS WRITING!


* Please note the word attempt.
** High school students: I’m kidding, obviously! Stay in school! Study hard! (wink!)