NaNoWriMoNow. Meow.
I talked about doing it last year, and I didn’t do shit. At least once a week since then I have talked about how I am actually going to do it [next time]. It has been this golden goal on my horizon for a few years now. NaNoWriMo [National Novel Writing Month] is my Dryland. (How’s your Waterworld references these days?) In 12 hours, I will once again be presented with my annual opportunity to either fulfill a lifelong goal and quell a point of contention and platform of self loathing in my life, or continue to not only allow the progression but contribute personally to the steady depreciation of my self worth. In 12 hours, I am doing it.
I am writing a novel. 50,000 words. One month. I am doing it.
Confused on what NaNoWriMo is? National Novel Writing Month is a competition and challenge to write a 50,000 word novel from start to finish in the month of November. It happens annually and is really a competition with your own laziness and procrastination. You can win it, by finishing, but everyone can win. There is no one winner. By completing your novel in one month you stand atop the mountain of insurmountable shit and doubt and finally tell yourself that you can do it. You did it.
I have had one living hell of a time the past few months. This was supposed to be the golden era for me. The capstone to a shitty existence and a gateway to the best times of my life. Well it wasn’t. I’ve still been eating the same shit just a different flavor. Writing this novel has sort of become this oasis in the desert of doubt for me. This one thing that I have to make myself to. To show myself that I can do something. I can do this thing that I’ve dreamed of doing for years. Even with everything that has happened, I can hopefully still do this.
I’ve done many things in my life. I’ve been many things. I always try something for a while then move on. Decent at a thousand things and a master at nothing, but since I was in middle school I have had the dream that I am supposed to be a writer. I tend to be a very technical person, having had an aptitude for computer science and worked in that industry since I left high school, but I tend to value artists more. I’d give up my technical ability for artistic talent any day. I have this one small trait that is common among technical or science minded people that is crippling for an artist: I am a perfectionist. I have not started writing a novel yet because I cannot find the perfect entry point or idea to start (of which said perfect idea or start does not exist of course). I feel like I have the ability to do it. I have the voice. Yet like a stuttering child I cannot form a single word. I get an idea, talk about it a little, talk about how I’ve always wanted to be a writer, talk myself into the idea that this is a great idea and I could do it and within a few hours (and of course before ever starting) I have found a hundred holes and flaws in the idea and I cannot bring myself to do it. And of all the hundred holes and flaws in all the hundreds of ideas that I’ve had over the years there is always that one single constant flaw that isn’t in the story or idea itself but exists before the genesis of the idea ever begins. I don’t believe that I can do it. Doubt. The unavoidable factor that poisons my life. A poisonous cancer that moves through everything I do and every thought I have. But do or die, I am making myself do it this year. I need the sense of achievement. I need the feeling of self control. I need to use this as the new start of the next chapter of my own life. If I’ve ever needed it I certainly need it now.
I have added a word count widget to my blog. I will be updating it with my progress, and I will be doing blog posts periodically to talk about my progress (and ruminate in advance on the state of my own failure. Of course. You know me).
Hopefully in 5 years or so you will be able to find me in your library or Barnes & Noble. Even if you don’t, I think if I could hold a piece of published literature created by me even knowing no one else ever read it, I will finally be able to feel content. Finally be able to feel that whatever that ‘it’ in all of our individual lives is that we must do in order to validate our existence is, that I did mine. I did it.
And in 11 hours and 15 minutes I am finally starting it.
Having nothing, nothing can he lose. - Shakespeare
