Why You Should Try NaNoWriMo

Another July, another NaNoWriMo.

For those new to the event, National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo for short) is a call-to-action for authors to pen a 50,000 word novel in just 30 (or 31) days. What began as an annual November event soon morphed into a biyearly event with the version of "Camp NaNoWriMo" for the summer. Camp was so successful they broke it up into two events; one in April and the other July.

I wrote extensively about my first experience with NaNoWriMo. It was an unexpected journey that ushered me from uncertain fledgling into the realm of serious writers. I didn't know just how far I could go until I used the event to challenge my boundaries. It gave me the tools I needed to silence my goblin and helped me gain trust in my writing process.

What makes this year's Camp so exciting is the ability to set your own word count goal. Gone are my days of hanging my head in shame when I can't complete 50,000 words. I've attempted the November event three times and Camp three times previously. I only "won" the first time I tried in 2011. I've set next month's goal at 25,000 while I work on building a fantasy short story collection.  I feel confident that I can attain this while balancing my work and parenting obligations.

I hope you'll join me in July's challenge. If you're still not sure if NaNo is for you or if you think 50,000 words sounds completely insane (which it does), maybe my NaNoWriMo Survival Guide will sway you. If I can to do it, so can you!

Why You Should Ignore The Goblin

I stumbled across this evocative image today: a typewriter craftily morphed into a hungry looking mechanical creature that appears ready to gnaw the fingers right off of unsuspecting hands. It comes courtesy of an amazing sculptor from Oakland, CA by the name of Jeremy Mayer  (More of his amazing creations can be found here).

The moment I saw this angry fellow I had two reactions. The first was to laugh at the cleverly constructed character. The second was to cringe at how often I envision my laptop is staring up at me with that same expression. These days writing feels like more of a chore than it should. 

The annoyed little creature I see in my mind begs the question “what am I doing wrong?”  Should I start writing at a different point in the story?  Is there more research needed before I can move forward?  Or should I simply scrap this project in favor of different material?

Perhaps some wisdom lies in the Hogwarts' Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson from third year teacher Professor Lupin. Just like the riddikulus charm used to defeat the boggart, I will imagine my writing goblin wearing a funny hat and laugh it into submission. If that doesn't work, the least I can do is ignore it.