Hey, I know it is late. But let’s go anyway.
Alright, nanowrimo is National Novel Writing Month. It is a hard work. The word count to hit is 50,000 words. Those words do not exist until they get put down. I as you know am participating in it. Shit is hard work.
This is only day three and it feels like I have been working on this story forever. There is a huge difference between writing nonfiction like this and making up people, places, and the actions they take. What gets me is so many books about writing are not for people like me. They aren’t for people who write by the seat of their pants. I mean, I have no fucking clue what is going to happen next. I am discovering the story as I am going. I sit down and write.
I know there is another way to do this. It is called plotting. It is getting your ducks in order. You know your characters, their past, present, and write down bullet points of their future. That is plotting the story. It is a pre-writing way of writing. You still have to make up what is going to happen. You just don’t need to know the details. What this does for most writers is give them a sense of security. They don’t have to face a blank page.
When it comes to nanowrimo, both take up the challenge. A lot of people are plotters, so they get their novels ready. I take the challenge raw. I have no clue what is going to happen, but I am excited to find out. With that being said, in a few thousand words from now, I am sure I will know where the story is going. Right now I am still just at the beginning.
It doesn’t matter how you choose to write. You can live in chaos like me or have a plan. It doesn’t matter. What matters is getting your work done. Going after your dreams. Following the muse and embracing your creative side.
It is not a normal compulsion to write. Most people can’t wait to get out of school and never have to write again. But we have a problem that is only fixed through expression. And that expression is only temporary for us. There is always going to be something next to write. Something that asks to be born from our minds.
Alright, it’s late.
Later Gator 🐊