A NaNoWriMo Top Ten: Strategies, Lifesavers, and Unintended Consequences (3 of 3)

By Becky Swanberg, author and EMoon Team Member 

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NaNoWriMo is a mere two days away. Have you officially signed up? Are you plotting out your story arc? Have you cleared your schedule and loaded up on your preferred form of caffeine?

Sounds like you're well on your way to hitting that 50,000 word count before December 1. Aside from registering and story prep, here’s a few more things you can do to set yourself up for success.

1. Carve out time….now. That’s right. When is this novel magic going to happen? Early mornings? Lunch breaks? Late nights? Start to think about how this novel is going to fit into your every day, and allow extra time the first few days. Remember- the daily goal is around 1600 words. Will you break it into pieces? Slay it all at once? Your plan can be flexible, but it helps to hit November 1 with an idea of when this is going down.

2. Tell your people. Now wait a sec, I don’t mean you need to blast your NaNoWriMo aspirations on all your social media platforms (though if that’s your thing- go for it!) I mean to let the people who are close to you in on this goal. That way when it’s Friday night and you ask friends to see a movie, someone will say, “Where’s your wordcount? Did you write today?” Then you’ll roll your eyes, ditch the movie plans, and feel sorry that you ever told anyone as you open your laptop. But later, when you hit your goal, you’ll be glad your people pushed you to it.

3. Don’t forget to account for Thanksgiving. NaNoWriMo rookies will find themselves pacing along, coming upon the end of the month with just a few thousand words left and then...Thanksgiving. That turkey coma will not only stall out your Black Friday aspirations, but it will kill a few days of novel writing. Work ahead, or plan makeup time on the back end. And if you’re travelling, don’t even pretend you’re going to hit your word count all those days. Trust me.

4. Don’t over edit. Your goal is 50,000 words- not 50,000 amazing and publishable words. If you stop to fix, you may kill the flow of your thoughts and feed the ego of your inner critic. Which leads me to my next point….

5. Ignore your inner critic. There’s a small voice that will tell you this is a waste of time, that your novel is terrible, and that everyone in your life is actually making fun of you behind your back. Turn down the volume on that voice.

6. Celebrate the glimpses of greatness. Have a storyline come together? A witty dialogue that makes you smile? A phrase or description that came to you in just the right moment? Be proud of those simple things. Sometimes stopping to acknowledge a little something gone right will help you to ignore the other 1500 painful words you wrote. Or the laundry piling up. Or the strange smell coming from your fridge.

7. Read the pep talks that arrive in your inbox. If you’re official with NaNoWriMo, they’ll send you regular pep talks from real deal authors- and they’re legit, my friend. Some of these authors tried this very experiment and have lived (and published) to tell the tale.

8. Take yourself seriously without taking your story too seriously. The goal is the quantity of words produced in such a short time. Give yourself the space to hit the goal, but don’t add the pressure for those words to be reader ready by the end. Let your main characters wander and grow and make decisions that are completely unsupported by their backstory. It’s OK. Really. It is.

9. Be open to what your novel wants to teach you. You may find that the greatest victory of the whole endeavor is learning that you actually don’t have a novel to write. Maybe you’ll discover that you don’t enjoy creating fiction. Or perhaps some things will clarify for you about why or when or what it really means for you to write. How do you push through? What time of day works best? Who are the people in your life who really get it and support you? Those are things that your novel can teach you if you let it.

10. Prepare yourself for the harsh reality that you might become addicted. You may think you only signed up for a month of this, but then this main character gets into your head and suddenly this novel is nowhere near done. It’s only fair to warn you that the art and craft of storytelling is a complicated hobby rife with writer’s block, endless decisions, and rejection letters. (I mean, who in their right mind pursues an interest where you pour out your soul, send it to strangers, and then they send you rejection letters? Why is anybody doing this?)

The reality is this: in this crazy month of pounding out words each day, you may find that writing a novel brings you joy. That you make more sense when you’re writing. That the every day of life is tamed a bit by the words you give to a story. And if you have the courage to admit that you can’t not write, then you’ll be glad you set out on this NaNoWriMo journey. You’ll thank this horrible first novel for waking you up, and then you’ll start the hard work of doing it all again.

Will I participate for NaNoWriMo this year? I’ve been there done that. I logged the hours, cringed at the writing, and came out at the other end knowing a bit more about story and a lot more about myself.

Happy writing, friends.

Read the two previous posts in this blog series here.

NaNoWriMo: Are You a Writing Architect or a Writing Gardener? (2 of 3)

BY BECKY SWANBERG, AUTHOR AND EMOON TEAM MEMBER

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If you were preparing to host a dinner, maybe you’d research recipes, carefully curate the menu, and then make a detailed shopping list. You’d head to the store with the list in hand and buy exactly what was needed. Then, with all these specific ingredients, you’d come home, follow directions, measure carefully, and execute. Nicely done!

Or perhaps you prefer to go the store and see what strikes your fancy. I mean, you have a leaning towards beef, but if you get to the meat section and the pork tenderloin is calling your name- you go with it. Toss in some veggies, a carb or two, and a surprising dessert. Then you head home, excited for the mystery of how this will all turn out.

Whether you cook more with your head or your heart, there’s an ease to it that makes sense with who you are and how you’re wired. The same goes for writing your novel.

I first stumbled across the idea of the two writing personalities while watching a writing class on YouTube. The professor was talking about a writer’s natural bent toward the craft, referring to the two ends of the spectrum as gardeners and architects (often called pantsers and plotters).  

Like most of my experiences with personality types, I found myself surprised how well a simple descriptor could make me aware of things I could only vaguely sense about myself. I was in the midst of writing my first novel, and my husband kept asking me questions about the villain and the ending and the fate of the characters.

“I don’t know!” I would answer, frustrated that he was trying to pin me down.

“Of course, you know,” my husband would reply. “You have to know. You’re the author!”

But what I couldn’t quite explain was this subtle feeling that though I was typing the words of this novel, I wasn’t really steering the ship. The story felt to me like it wanted to tell itself. I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized that this was a common feeling among writers. I wasn’t a psycho; I was a gardener.

Like all personality types, there certainly is room for people to have a bit of both or fall right in the middle, but as I read about the craft and talk to other writers, most people have a strong sense of being one or the other.

Architect vs. Gardener

Writers who see themselves as “architects” tend to write best with a plan. They outline. They timeline. They pre-write with gusto. These writers find that the outline frees them, the work done ahead makes the words come more clearly, and the work done long before they start chapter 1 helps them write most efficiently. Self-proclaimed architects include J.K Rowling, Brandon Sanderson, and John Grisham.

In contrast, “gardeners” are writers who see the process as more of a winding road than a step-by-step process. These writers are more likely to start with an idea, water it (add words and chapters), and then watch it grow. Gardeners do not generally plan a story as much as they discover the story along the way. This doesn’t mean that gardeners don’t think about it ahead of time or do some character development before starting chapter 1--they may. However, the storyline itself is generally more fluid and open to possibility. Famous gardeners include Stephen King, Margaret Atwood, and George R.R. Martin.

And what does this have to do with NaNoWriMo?

As you set out to tackle a novel, understanding your writing temperament can help you prepare and execute more effectively.

If you’re an architect, you’ll want to spend some time considering your characters, the major scenes, and overall plot progression of your book. You might find it helpful to make some decisions right away: genre, setting, main characters, central conflict, and the point of view that will serve your story best. How will the story open? What do your characters want? What challenges will they face? How will those challenges be resolved?

Gardeners are more inclined to think about the feel and growth of their story. Are you drawn to a certain voice or setting? Why? What could you add to those elements to create more pieces of this story? Write a short descriptive paragraph about your main character waking up for the day. Did you write in first or third person? Did it help establish voice? Most gardeners who write efficiently say they will try to nail down a general story outline- not a road map but at least a destination for their story. A list of scenes or possible challenges for your main character may help you focus when you come to a wall, when that story seems like it stops growing for awhile.

With National Novel Writing Month just two weeks away, the time for prepping those novels is right now. Hopefully, these tips will help you prepare in a way that is helpful as you sit down each day and tackle that wordcount goal.

Wait- what if you don’t know if you’re a gardener or an architect? I don’t know any magic secrets to figuring that out, but here’s a surefire way: try to write a novel, and I think you will quickly know.

Up for the challenge? Two weeks and counting until NaNoWriMo kicks off. This could be the year of discovering not only your novel ambitions but also what kind of writer you are.

National Novel Writing Month (nanowrimo)

by Dallas Beams, Electric Moon team member

Hello, again! It’s me, your favorite satirical, sarcastic, and awkward Electric Moon writer! And I have the honor of telling you that the month of November is National Novel Writing Month! For those of you who do not know what that means, National Novel Writing Month is a challenge to all current and aspiring authors. The challenge is to write a 50,000 word novel in the span of a month; begin on November 1st and continue writing as feverishly as you can until midnight on November 30th. PHEW! Sounds impossible, right? Well, while it might be quite the feat, I know that you can do this. I know it might be hard, I know it might be 1,667 words per day. I know that you have a life, a job, a family, bills to pay, checks to write; I know all of this. But, isn’t fulfilling the dream of having your novel finished worth sacrificing for? I’m not saying don’t pay your bills for November, or to quit your job; what I am saying is it’s one month out of your life of full dedication to working with your talent and honing your craft. And that you CAN do.

There is even a website to help you along.

www.nanowrimo.org

This website provides a log for you to track your progress, an author profile, and even published authors to offer friendly advice and encouragement on your journey.

This may all sound like a bad case of ‘easier said than done’ coming from stranger online, who only edits the books of other people, having never written her own novel. On the contrary, my friend, I, like some of you, am also trying to pump out my first novel. I’ve been working on it for about a year, I’ve gone through four drafts, and just started my fifth. And on November 1st I signed up for the website. Let me tell you, it has pushed me to write each day. And you’re right, it is hard, it is a struggle most days. But, the pep talks from the staff are stimulating, and the badges you can earn from your progress are invigorating. Seriously, if you are struggling for inspiration, and trying to fight off writers’ block, I strongly urge you to take the challenge. It is so worth it, and I am saying that only three days into it.

And please document your successes, trials, and efforts with the #nanowrimo on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram. We hope that this rejuvenates your love of writing and we hope to see your novels coming into the Electric Moon office at the end of the challenge; which conveniently coincides with our Holiday Publishing Package. Yes, I am shamelessly plugging. But in all honesty it is a great deal that authors should take advantage of before the year is up!

So, where are you in your novel? Half way? Three quarters? Just started? Let us know in the comments below!

For the Love of Books: What Surprised Me Most about Trying to Write a Book (part 5 of 6)

by Becky Swanberg, writer, teacher and friend of eMoon

In July of 2011, I gave birth to my fourth child. At the time, my other kids were two, four, and six years old. As we hit the newborn rhythm and settled in to life with four, I found myself in a strange state of physical exhaustion and mental restlessness. Somehow, I was tired but bored.

That fall I heard murmurings of National Novel Writing Month, a community of writers that set a goal of writing 50,000 words in the month of November. The point of the writing was not the quality of the work but the quantity. Don’t edit. Don’t overthink it. Just write. I signed up with nothing but a vague novel premise and an excitement to stretch my writing muscles a bit.

November 1 came, and I wrote. Each night I found myself at the keyboard, steadily filling the hours of 9:00 p.m.-11:00 p.m. with a slowly lengthening novel. At 11:00 I’d shut the laptop, feed the baby her last feeding of the day, and then we’d all go to bed.

In the end I made it to 47,000 words. I didn’t have a novel; I didn’t even really have a story with a point. All I had was a series of random scenes, one of which contained the longest and most-detailed Trivial Pursuit game ever recorded in a work of fiction. Not much promise in all that writing. But I did have a main character that I was getting to know and completely adored. So I scrapped the current manuscript, started over, and tried to write her story again. November had ended but novel-writing had just started.

The next version was better, with a vague hint of a plot, so I cut half of it and kept going.

Write, edit, salvage, repeat. This became the rhythm of my writing life.

Two years later, I finished that manuscript, a YA novel of 90,000 words.

That first book was an unexpected journey; it asked so much of me and taught me so much in the forming of it. I learned hard lessons in plot, conflict, pacing, and ending a story. I labored over dialogue and descriptions, fighting the details to not sound forced or contrived. I interviewed people with similar experiences, wrestled with language and dialect, ruthlessly cut adjectives and adverbs that clouded the writing. I even came to tears as I realized that my book was not going to have the happy ending I had hoped. The story had gotten away from me, the main character that I loved so much had outgrown my original plan, and in her growth she seemed to need a different end. Something harder. Something hopeful.

All of these lessons were invaluable. I came away with a wealth of knowledge not only about the process of writing a book, but also about my process as a writer. I met my main character, Macy, but I also met myself in many ways. I learned how I process information, how I plan, how I write best when I’m feeling my way through a story. I learned how the atmosphere of silence, darkness and talking aloud made the words increase exponentially. I created Macy and her world, but I met parts of me in the middle of it.

Yes, it was harder and more time consuming and more exhilarating and more draining than I had ever imagined. But of all the things I learned, there’s one lesson that surprised me the most. I thought the completion of the project would leave me feeling triumphant; I didn’t expect it to make me feel so vulnerable.

There’s something about creating art, pouring yourself out, digging deep into yourself and calling something out that truly matters to you- this is a terrifying thing to pass along to someone and casually say, “Tell me what you think.” It was a confusing reality because I was so excited to share my work and yet so reluctant to actually offer it to others. I was unprepared for how much that story would matter to me in the end. It was an achievement, not for the quality but for the act of pushing through, of finding my stride, of a few small moments in the story that resonated so deeply with things that matter to me.

In time I came to realize that the vulnerability was coming from many places; it came from the depth of the words, the unsureness of the outcome, the effort given in the pouring out. I knew it wasn’t a masterpiece, but it was a sincere and hard-fought offering.

In the offering of something personal, there is a final stage to letting it go. There’s a moment where you actually have to pry your fingers off the work and set it down, knowing that other people are going to pick it up and treat it how they choose.  It was the moment of setting it down that ripped me raw. I expected to feel more like I was unveiling a painting; instead it felt like abandoning a child. But the setting it down, the walking away, the letting the story tell its own story—each hard part of the process was something I needed to experience.

As I reflect on that first attempt, there’s part of me that wants to “fix” that problem, master my own vulnerability, if you will. Surely I can write in such a way that doesn’t leave me feeling so exposed or produce a story that is so personal. But in the scope of creating and writing and building a story, I think that what we say should matter. It should resonate. It should feel like something significant is being offered in the telling. And all I know to write, all I have to really say, is an outpouring of things that deeply matter and move me.

Follow Becky's other amusing musings on her website at www.beckyswanberg.com. While you're at it, do us a solid and encourage her to publish those manuscripts!