–>
In less than two weeks, it will be time for one of the most ingenious activities ever created for writers: National Novel Writing Month.
Billed as a “seat-of-your-pants approach to novel writing,” NaNoWriMo is open to anyone foolish enough to try writing a 175-page (50,000 word) novel in 30 days. Start writing November 1st. Finish by midnight November 30th. No expectations. No angst. No need to actually write well. Just write.
“NaNoWriMo is a novel-writing program for everyone who has thought fleetingly about writing a novel but has been scared away by the time and effort involved,” says the National Novel Writing Month website. “The kamikaze approach forces you to lower your expectations, take risks, and write on the fly.”
NaNoWriMo began in 1999 in the San Francisco Bay area when twenty-one people decided to write novels in a month, “for the same dumb reasons twentysomethings start bands.” By year 2001, it had ballooned to 5,000 participants. It soon went national, then international. In the past decade, nearly 150,000 people have taken part. There are NaNoWriMo groups all over the world, many holding special events.
Why would anyone become a WriMo? Because it makes you write. It forces you to bypass the crap in your head that’s keeping you from getting your words down on paper. It connects you with a community of writers. It doesn’t cost anything. And it’s fun.
I’m going to be taking part in NaNoWriMo for this first time this year, and I’ll be blogging about my experience unless I find something more interesting to blog about in the meantime.
If you’re interested, join me.
How do you become a WriMo? Go to the NaNoWriMo website and sign up. It’s free, and it’s easy. You don’t have to buy anything, join anything, or do anything but write. If you find after the first day that writing a novel in a month isn’t your idea of a good time, simply quit. The website can be a bit intimidating—there’s a lot of information there and it starts to look complicated as you navigate around, but it isn’t.
As the website says, “Let’s write laughably awful yet lengthy prose together.” And maybe what you write won’t be so laughable or so awful after all.
In less than two weeks, it will be time for one of the most ingenious activities ever created for writers: National Novel Writing Month.
Billed as a “seat-of-your-pants approach to novel writing,” NaNoWriMo is open to anyone foolish enough to try writing a 175-page (50,000 word) novel in 30 days. Start writing November 1st. Finish by midnight November 30th. No expectations. No angst. No need to actually write well. Just write.
“NaNoWriMo is a novel-writing program for everyone who has thought fleetingly about writing a novel but has been scared away by the time and effort involved,” says the National Novel Writing Month website. “The kamikaze approach forces you to lower your expectations, take risks, and write on the fly.”
NaNoWriMo began in 1999 in the San Francisco Bay area when twenty-one people decided to write novels in a month, “for the same dumb reasons twentysomethings start bands.” By year 2001, it had ballooned to 5,000 participants. It soon went national, then international. In the past decade, nearly 150,000 people have taken part. There are NaNoWriMo groups all over the world, many holding special events.
Why would anyone become a WriMo? Because it makes you write. It forces you to bypass the crap in your head that’s keeping you from getting your words down on paper. It connects you with a community of writers. It doesn’t cost anything. And it’s fun.
I’m going to be taking part in NaNoWriMo for this first time this year, and I’ll be blogging about my experience unless I find something more interesting to blog about in the meantime.
If you’re interested, join me.
How do you become a WriMo? Go to the NaNoWriMo website and sign up. It’s free, and it’s easy. You don’t have to buy anything, join anything, or do anything but write. If you find after the first day that writing a novel in a month isn’t your idea of a good time, simply quit. The website can be a bit intimidating—there’s a lot of information there and it starts to look complicated as you navigate around, but it isn’t.
As the website says, “Let’s write laughably awful yet lengthy prose together.” And maybe what you write won’t be so laughable or so awful after all.
Okay. You convinced me. I’m going to try it. Well… maybe…