Discovering a novel idea

Some of you might or might not be recently familiar with the invented term “NaNoWriMo.”

Despite its oddity, I assure you that it is not an exotic cake recipe using bananas flambé, nor a chant spoken for a heightened state of meditation or even an endangered species of carnivorous whales.

NaNoWriMo is an abbreviation for National Novel Writing Month, bestowed upon us in November of each year.

This 30-day event invokes a challenge to writers and non-writers, young and old, across the country and overseas to write a full 175 pages (50,000 words) before midnight on Nov. 30.

The project sparks an opportunity for aspiring writers to cast aside literary inhibitions and self-editing, immersing themselves in pure, ever-flowing, expository instinct.
As the website for the project puts it: “To forgo the endless tweaking and editing and just create. To build without tearing down.”

The nonstop release of prose and plot development keeps writers in touch with their own stylistic urges without second-guessing. A cathartic, completely nontraditional approach to creating novels is fueled by the commitment to output, the quantity over quality and the constant stream of story without having to worry about where it’s going.
Starting in 1999, NaNoWriMo participation rates have risen from a mere group of 21 friends to almost 200,000 authors this year. Stretching internationally, all these authors work toward a communal deadline of 1,667 words a day.

I’ll admit, at first I was skeptical. To begin with, I couldn’t fathom that those who had careers or school schedules to adhere to could possibly commit to such a rigorous writing demand that would ultimately distract or even inhibit prior responsibilities.
Furthermore, I didn’t quite see the point in creating something that would require a large amount of my time and efforts, and in the long run, be appreciated by no one.
Reading further into the organization, I found that only 19 percent of the participants last year actually met the 50K word quota. I thought if so few people could accomplish this rather outrageous labor, then surely I, the procrastination connoisseur, could never meet that deadline.

It was altogether hopeless. And furthermore, “I’m writing a novel” sounds so pompous in a spoken sentence.

On the evening of Nov. 1, I joked with a friend that this would be something fun to initiate and then ultimately be disappointed in. But within hours, mere infatuation found me lunging into something off a whim of an idea. I was hooked.

Typing like a madman, I was driven by the lack of revision and determination to beat an opponent whom I had no means of identifying.

I have drawn illustrations of my characters. I have made a cover design and an idea journal. People I knew participating slowly dropped out, and it quickly became something for me; it was a self-fulfilling provocation to finish something I never had before, and as a bonus, it went hand in hand with No-Shave November.

NaNoWriMo is a movement for something much bigger than just finishing a story. It’s an invitation into a work ethic that intertwines your stream of consciousness with rhetoric, uncovering the rawest of your ideas, the greatest of your risks and the calamity of your follies.

This “kamikaze approach” to taking on assignments is something that can be exercised, whether we are writing a term paper or writing a poem, as we annihilate the fear of failure.

In a world of checking and double-checking, it is easy to lose track of a truer, more organic version of your writing that you never would have unearthed.

Through many mugs of coffee, numerous midnight oils and one four-day, hospital-excused break from school, I am on my way to being an accomplished NaNoWriMo. Though I am quite a number of words behind on the suggested quota, I am learning a vast importance in commitment, consistency and doing something solely for myself.
So fellow NaNoWriMos, I salute you and hope for bookish endurance in the final twelve days of your writing journey. It’s the final stretch, and whether you’re right on schedule or painfully behind, your audacity is admirable, and the fruits of your labor are soon to be harvested.

Whether it’s this year or next — NaNoWriMo or not — let November be a time where you can tap into the deeper parts of the subconscious by shedding away a few compositional conventions first. Reaching for your pen, grasp a less polished sense of idea and voice, word after word after word.


E-mail: ftirado@indiana.edu