NaNaWriMo Report and an excerpt
Dec. 3rd, 2010 04:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tamela_jWell, that did not go according to plan.
I had all these grand ideas for NaNoWriMo this year. They were varied and changed a few times (which might go a bit to why it all fell to hell pretty early on) but they included three elements.
1. Write a short story everyday.
I had it in my head to write a lot of quick stories that would somehow inter-relate on some level and that I could more easily hone into a publishable tidbits, rather than start another novel that I either wouldn't finish, wouldn't want to edit, or wouldn't want to seek representation for...or worse, would do all those things only to be rejected by all agents and publishing houses I sought out. (Can you tell I've been feeling no love for the publishing world of late? More on that at #3.)
In actuality, I started about five short stories, completely finished two of them (one 10k and one 8k) and also, accidentally started a novel. (More on that later too.)
2. Blog everyday.
OMG Guys! I had no idea how hard it is to do that on a regular basis. I have such respect for people who do it in earnest. I think I might have done one...and started a few more. My main problem this year, I'm sure you've all realized already, is my lack of concentration. I had the hardest time finding something and sticking with it until the end.
3. Send out a short story to magazines and journals everyday.
This, sadly was the goal I came the closest to fulfilling. It was also the most soul-crushing thing that I put myself through last month.
Word of advice: In a month when you are pushing yourself harder then any other, doing something spectacular that sometimes seems impossible; when you are fighting against all the naysayers that wonder why you waste your time on this cute little hobby of yours, having little email bombs of rejection barraging your inbox is really not the way to fight it.
So, I failed big time. I've failed in this attempt before, and I might again in the future, but never have I felt so depressed about it.
But there were two shining lights that are now helping me carry on. Firstly, turns out, the area I just moved to has a bustling and amazingly strong NaNo presence (We beat D.C. in our regional word war! HA! Take that D.C!!) and I made a lot of possible!writing friends to see me through the year! This excites me greatly.
Secondly, in my annual Last Chance NaNo Getaway Weekend known to the rest of the US as Thanksgiving Weekend, I had a drunken breakthrough. Not just any breakthrough though, a NOVEL breakthrough! This both excites and freaks me out.
I haven't had an idea for a novel in a very long time. Yes, this is going to be the most depressing, most messed up story I've ever written (really saying something considering what I've written in the past!) but I really think it's going to be a sort of amazing way to spend a year.
An excerpt:
On the third day, the rucksack over Sadie’s head was taken away.
She blinked against the light; her eyes instantly tearing up with a parched sting. Everything was hazy and out of focus. She had gotten used to the dark, the smell of the course burlap and a scent of oil, sweat and stale food: gotten used to hearing nothing but a coughing air-conditioner, whispered arguments over incessant music with a tin-can quality in a foreign language and her own shallow breathing: gotten used to the numb of her arms, pulled tight and tied behind her back; the only feeling the trickle of sweat sliding down her back, hands on her, touching her. They started first on her knees, with tentative fingers, then they were bolder, harsher and they moved along her neckline, popping the buttons of her shirt, with short bursts of a tug, one after another. The sound of that first button hitting a cement floor was the last time she felt the tears roll down her face, the last time she tasted anything--saline that tasted like mourning--the last time she allowed herself to feel anything at all.
Yeah, fun times! I blame Robert Olen Butler--the bastard! But, more on that later. Right now I have to get to the Thank God It's Over Party! Never before has that statement been more true.
I had all these grand ideas for NaNoWriMo this year. They were varied and changed a few times (which might go a bit to why it all fell to hell pretty early on) but they included three elements.
1. Write a short story everyday.
I had it in my head to write a lot of quick stories that would somehow inter-relate on some level and that I could more easily hone into a publishable tidbits, rather than start another novel that I either wouldn't finish, wouldn't want to edit, or wouldn't want to seek representation for...or worse, would do all those things only to be rejected by all agents and publishing houses I sought out. (Can you tell I've been feeling no love for the publishing world of late? More on that at #3.)
In actuality, I started about five short stories, completely finished two of them (one 10k and one 8k) and also, accidentally started a novel. (More on that later too.)
2. Blog everyday.
OMG Guys! I had no idea how hard it is to do that on a regular basis. I have such respect for people who do it in earnest. I think I might have done one...and started a few more. My main problem this year, I'm sure you've all realized already, is my lack of concentration. I had the hardest time finding something and sticking with it until the end.
3. Send out a short story to magazines and journals everyday.
This, sadly was the goal I came the closest to fulfilling. It was also the most soul-crushing thing that I put myself through last month.
Word of advice: In a month when you are pushing yourself harder then any other, doing something spectacular that sometimes seems impossible; when you are fighting against all the naysayers that wonder why you waste your time on this cute little hobby of yours, having little email bombs of rejection barraging your inbox is really not the way to fight it.
So, I failed big time. I've failed in this attempt before, and I might again in the future, but never have I felt so depressed about it.
But there were two shining lights that are now helping me carry on. Firstly, turns out, the area I just moved to has a bustling and amazingly strong NaNo presence (We beat D.C. in our regional word war! HA! Take that D.C!!) and I made a lot of possible!writing friends to see me through the year! This excites me greatly.
Secondly, in my annual Last Chance NaNo Getaway Weekend known to the rest of the US as Thanksgiving Weekend, I had a drunken breakthrough. Not just any breakthrough though, a NOVEL breakthrough! This both excites and freaks me out.
I haven't had an idea for a novel in a very long time. Yes, this is going to be the most depressing, most messed up story I've ever written (really saying something considering what I've written in the past!) but I really think it's going to be a sort of amazing way to spend a year.
An excerpt:
On the third day, the rucksack over Sadie’s head was taken away.
She blinked against the light; her eyes instantly tearing up with a parched sting. Everything was hazy and out of focus. She had gotten used to the dark, the smell of the course burlap and a scent of oil, sweat and stale food: gotten used to hearing nothing but a coughing air-conditioner, whispered arguments over incessant music with a tin-can quality in a foreign language and her own shallow breathing: gotten used to the numb of her arms, pulled tight and tied behind her back; the only feeling the trickle of sweat sliding down her back, hands on her, touching her. They started first on her knees, with tentative fingers, then they were bolder, harsher and they moved along her neckline, popping the buttons of her shirt, with short bursts of a tug, one after another. The sound of that first button hitting a cement floor was the last time she felt the tears roll down her face, the last time she tasted anything--saline that tasted like mourning--the last time she allowed herself to feel anything at all.
Yeah, fun times! I blame Robert Olen Butler--the bastard! But, more on that later. Right now I have to get to the Thank God It's Over Party! Never before has that statement been more true.
