Before I launch into a torrent of ululations on the innovative novel-writing concept, I must address today’s lecture: it went well.
The students were good, although they balked at the interactiveness of the lecture – I cannot bear simply sitting and expostulating by myself, I love the students to interrupt with questions and views – and in the end, I managed to speak at a relatively normal pace.
Normal enough to allay my fears of finishing early – we finished with five minutes to go, so it was perfect.
Now that the lecture is done, I can return to musing on the concept promulgated on WordPress yesterday: NaNoWriMo, or, National Novel Writing Month.
NaNoWriMo is a program for anyone who has considered – no matter how fleetingly – about writing a novel, but has been disheartened by the time and effort involved.
Or, as in my case, they have been too busy a) reading novels; and b) feel tickled by the idea of actually writing, but feel strangely prudish also.
Ultimately, NaNoWriMo’s manifesto provides much needed motivation:
What: Writing one 50,000-word novel from scratch in a month’s time.
Who: You! We can’t do this unless we have some other people trying it as well. Let’s write laughably awful yet lengthy prose together.
Why: The reasons are endless! To actively participate in one of our era’s most enchanting art forms! To write without having to obsess over quality. To be able to make obscure references to passages from our novels at parties. To be able to mock real novelists who dawdle on and on, taking far longer than 30 days to produce their work.
When: You can sign up anytime to add your name to the roster and browse the forums. Writing begins November 1. To be added to the official list of winners, you must reach the 50,000-word mark by November 30 at midnight. Once your novel has been verified by our web-based team of robotic word counters, the partying begins.
The goal is, then, to exit November and ring in the Yule bells of December with a thumping 175 page tome of your own.
It is so alluring that I have been consumed by day-dreams of the novelist variety since yesterday.
Alas, I lack the spontaneous tale-weaving skill as held by fellow bloggers such as Natalia, and as my home-made scarf snarls from the corner of the living room, knitting needles poking askance, I think the novel writing shall remain a private endeavour.