There are many reasons folks will give for not sitting down and writing that great novel or short story idea. Most often it is that they don’t have time. There are too many things to do, too many obligations to keep. The solution: make a list. Look at the list. Is writing on there at the bottom? Flip the list so that writing is the first thing on it. Get up early if necessary to get some writing done. Make it your first priority even if it’s just for thirty minutes. If that doesn’t work for you then write for thirty minutes before going to bed. Whichever you decide to do make a habit of it.
Many find that when they sit down to write they get bogged down because they are searching for that one phrase, that one line, that one word. Or they keep going back over what they have written continuously editing and never moving forward. Our internal editor goes into overdrive and we forget that editing process should happen after we’ve finished writing the story. The solution: Learn to turn off your inner editorial voice. It’s hard but it is possible. Here is one way to do it: take part in Nanowrimo.
Nanowrimo stands for National Novel Writing Month. It takes place during the month of November. The goal: to write 50,000 words in a month. It sounds like a lot. It is. It averages out to a little over 1600 words per day if you write every day. By the end you have written a 157 page rough draft. Which is entirely the point. In order to meet the goal of 50,000 words one must disregard quality and focus on quantity. No one has ever said a first draft, otherwise known as a rough draft, has to be perfect. After all that is why it is called a rough draft in the first place.
Chris Baty, one of the founders of Nanowrimo, wrote a book titled No Plot? No Problem! all about writing those 50,000 words in a month. Intended to be read over the course of November, Chris offers some sage advice in how to approach writing during the duration of Nanowrimo. He even goes so far as to write a tongue in cheek “contract” for you to copy and sign. It reads as follows:
The month-long Novelist Agreement and Statement of Intent
I hereby pledge my intent to write a 50,000 word novel in one months time. By invoking an absurd, month-long deadline on such an enormous undertaking. I understand that notions of “craft,” “brilliance,” and “competency” are to be chucked right out the window, where they will remain, ignored, until they are retrieved for the editing process. I understand that I am a talented person, capable of heroic acts of creativity, and I will give myself enough time over the course of the next month to allow my innate gifts to come to the surface, unmolested by self-doubt, self-criticism, and other acts of self-bullying.
During the month ahead, I realize I will produce clunky dialogue, cliched characters, and deeply flawed plots. I agree that all these things will be left in my rough draft, to be corrected and/or excised at a later point. I understand my right to withhold my manuscript from all readers until I deem it completed. I also acknowledge my right as an author to substantially inflate both the quality of the rough draft and the rigors of the writing process should such inflation prove useful in garnering me respect and attention, or freedom from participation in onerous household chores.
I acknowledge that the month-long, 50,000-word deadline I set for myself is absolute and unchangeable, and that any failure to meet the deadline, or any effort on my part to move the deadline once the adventure has begun, will invite well-deserved mockery from friends and family. I also acknowledge that, upon successful completion of the stated noveling objective, I am entitled to a period of gleeful celebration and revelry, the duration and intensity of which may preclude me from participating fully in workplace activities for days, if not weeks, afterward.
I participated in Nanowrimo for the first time in 2006. I copied and signed the agreement then taped it to my desk. Every time my inner editor would try to come out I re-read the agreement reminding myself that it was a rough draft and it did not have to be perfect the first time around. By the end of the month I had exceeded the required goal and found the experience very rewarding. I plan on participating again this year, and have already begun the initial outlining that I will follow.
The last, and final reason, we tend to give these excuses for not writing is that we are scared. Some of us are scared of failure (or being seen as a failure) and some of us are even scared of success. The only way to combat this fear is to look at the reasons why. Come to terms with them and then continue on. If we didn’t there wouldn’t be any writers left in the world and what would we read then?