No More NaNo

On November 1st, two things occurred. First, I contracted my first round of strep throat for the month. Secondly, National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) began.

NaNo, as it's known colloquially, is a writing challenge that began in 1999. The overarching goal is to write a 50,000 word novel between November 1st and November 30th. If you reach 50,000 words and get it validated by the NaNoWriMo software...you WIN. There's not really a prize, per se, you just get the satisfaction of knowing you've created a substantive piece of writing (50K is about the length of Fight Club or The Giver). And frankly, they're very laissez faire about what constitutes a "novel". There is a lot of freedom to write what you wish to write.

I've never written a novel, though I've halfheartedly tried to do NaNo a few other times. This year, however, I was struck with a really strong idea that I felt very compelled to put into novel form. In order to be more successful, I made a strong outline and kind of hammered out some details before the challenge began. I also joined the regional WriMo group, which ended up being a very valuable asset.

Waiting for Novemember 1st was tough. I felt like a racehorse pressing against the starting gate. Then, when the day finally came, my throat felt like it was filled with shards of glass and I had a fever so high I was shivering. I DID NOT feel like writing. For the entire first week, I limped along, writing when my Advil kicked in and lessened the pain. The regional WriMos had a chat group which I frequented that week. Veteran writers were kind and encouraging. The support that they offered kept the fire stoked within my writer's soul while my body healed.

The second week of the contest, I was hot. Words came quickly and ideas flowed freely. It was a beautiful thing! Though I was behind in my word count, I pressed on, chipping away at my 50k. By the 9th of November I'd hit 10,000 words (which is about 40 book pages). Meeting that goal was exhilarating. Buuuut, then I hit a wall.

My mentors on the writing forum encouraged me to just keep writing. "You can take things out in editing," they'd say. So, that's what I did. I tacked on a chapter at the end called "Process" and just did some free writing. That helped jumpstart more ideas for the novel. So, by the third week I was at 15,000 words.

On the Saturday before Thanksgiving, I attended my first "write-in". Basically about 30 writers from the regional group took over a local coffeehouse and wrote together for 4 solid hours. Being with people who share your art form can be very inspiring, even if you have WILDLY different styles. Sitting at a table with a steampunk author and a scifi writer, I tapped out 3,000 words, putting my total at 20K!!! That was so HUGE for me!! I was 80 pages into my novel....80!!! That's phenomenal!

Driving home from the write in, I felt a familiar twinge in my throat. Though I desperately hoped I my strep wasn't back, time revealed that it had, in fact, returned with a vengeance. (Just a side note, this was my 8th time contracting strep throat since Little Brother was born 5 years ago. I am praying that my ENT will take these defective tonsils out of my body soon.)  The second bout of the illness was brutal. The pain was worse, the healing was much slower, and again, I did NOT feel like writing. Though a few words made it into the novel, for the most part it still hovered around 20k...which is where it stayed when the competition ended yesterday, November 30th.

I didn't even make it half way friends. That's a bummer. BUT, I DID write TWENTY THOUSAND WORDS!  That's more words than I've ever written on one project. Things come up and stuff happens, such is life. I am so excited to participate in Camp NaNoWriMo in July and to attempt to get to 50k again next November (hopefully sickness free).

Sooooo, why am I including a post about a writing competition on this here mental health blog, you might be wondering. The craft of writing is extremely important to me. On Facebook I use the hashtag #writerssoul when I post a status about writing. It's completely and thoroughly true...I have the soul of a writer. Whether or not I ever finish a novel or get anything published anywhere, there is a longing in the innermost part of me to set forth words to paper.

All of this bullshit with anxiety and depression is redeemed by the fact that I can craft soothing words of hope for the benefit of other human beings (and ultimately myself). The novels I want to write center around struggles which are common to humanity. They are meant to help and heal. Writing is a precious gift and I am honored to make use of it to the best of my ability.