The Marathon is a week away, and I officially signed up today (after some prodding). If you remember (and if you read this, I’m sure you do remember, seeing as there are only three of you), the Marathon is my overly clever name for Nanowrimo, or the National Novel Writing Month, during which valiant and foolish souls try to turn their dreams of writing a novel into a concrete work of 50,000 words (including some semblance of a story with an ending). The month: November, probably because it fits in nicely with the whole NaNoWriMo lettering.
My last year’s effort is there for everyone to read and ridicule. The Pink Sweater was an amazing effort, and while it was worse than I had expected, I did finish. It weighed in at a hefty (and winning) 50,049 words, and I birthed it on November 23, 2004, with the painful delivery beginning on the late afternoon of November 1. I glanced through a few of the pages as I set up the links, and while the story and plot are god awful, there is some decent writing hidden in the draft. (And, yes, I’m saying that to booster my confidence for this year’s Marathon.)
Last year was not a complete waste. Thanks to my efforts, I go into this year’s Marathon wiser in that I know (besides nothing) that while 50,000 words is surprisingly a lot words, it’s not nearly as hard as it sounds (or I dreaded). Writing words turns out to be generally easy: it only takes dedication. Now, writing good words, that’s a completely different potato (stuffed with cheese). In preparation for the 2004 Marathon, about this time last year, I pounded out two-page short stories and musings as a way to build up to writing 2,000 words each day. This year, I didn’t do that. It wasn’t because I thought it hurt my writing (actually, it probably neither hurt nor helped), but because I’ve been concentrating on Julie and my wedding website for the last couple of weeks. It’s almost done (I know I keep saying that), and I’ll post it before the first of next month to clear my head to focus on other important things.
My planning for last year’s story was rather haphazard. I did work the clever twists and plot elements before I started, but I didn’t do much thinking about plot or character. This year I’ve done little better. Up through this past weekend, in fact, I had done much worse. I had no ideas, relying on a few science fiction story ideas that sprouted during unrelated writing exercises. This past weekend, though, things changed. As I walked between the Castle and my local restaurants, ideas started flitting through my head. The germ of the ideas lay in my purchase of Robert Jordan’s latest The Wheel of Time book, the 11th book in his 12-book epic fantasy series. As I embarrassingly told my Marathon cohort by mail this morning, high fantasy novels are my inspiration for wanting to write. It was when I first started reading fantasy novels (David Eddings’s The Belgariad in particular), that I began dreaming of writing. Imagine the life, I thought to myself, of dreaming up adventures and heroes, and making a living at it! Of course, the living part never happened, but I still share the dream of writing epic fantasy with the young David.
With that in mind, I picked the fantasy genre to write this year’s Marathon entry. And, yes Julie, you did make that suggestion many months ago—it just takes my brain a while to process it, and my heart time to accept it. (Although I keep using words like entry and contest, the Marathon is not a contest in that there’s nothing to win—there are no prizes for first to finish, or longest or best-written novel. This is a self-indulgent contest, where winning means you’ve accomplished a goal you set for yourself and of which the community supported you in achieving.) I won’t go into the details of my planned story since I wouldn’t want to be tempted to begin writing (and I’m not sure the ideas are in a sufficient state to share). I have sketched some of the characters and happenings, and I even named a few of the characters.
Of course, with all this sketching and planning, there is a good chance that next Tuesday (that’s the first of the month), when I pop open the computer to write my first line, I’ll freak out. Similar to the first day of the Marathon last year, when I stared at the blank screen and almost screamed with how utterly unprepared I was to begin that year’s story, which almost resulted in me ditching the story idea, the Marathon, and my own sanity. I took to wrestling with my demons and forced myself to start.
I had never thought about it in this way, but as I was reading the remnants of the first day’s work last year, I came upon this telling ending, where I threw out my fears and hopes of that first day:
“Do you think everything will turn out? What I’m trying to ask is: do you think I did the right thing?”
Lenny looked at her strangely. He didn’t know how to answer or what she was talking about. He felt a warm sensation in his chest and was overwhelmed by a feeling of sadness. He wasn’t sure why he was sad, but he thought it might have something to do with his aunt’s aging, or, more unexpectedly, something to do with the sweater. “I can’t say, but it’s too late to change it now,” Lenny said. It was not the reassuring statement he had planned, but he knew it for the truth.
Once you dive in, you’re in it for the good or the bad. I’m hoping this year’s good is better than last year’s bad. But if not, at least I’ll write 50,000 crappy words, adding yet another useless notch to my scarred belt.
Word count: 2,007
Words remaining: 47,993
Caffeination: Tall mocha drank halfway through the entry.
Feeling: Beginnings are hard. I feel like I have so much to say and it’s difficult to know where to start, or how I will manage to get from one idea to the next. I forgot how many words 2,000 are. After ripping through the first 1,000 words, I became stuck, and dragged through the remaining half. I spent too much time polishing and not enough time writing new words. I’ll hopefully get back into the proper, diarrhea-style writing tomorrow.
Word count: 2,208
Words remaining: 45,785
Caffeination: Americano earlier in the day.
Feeling: Another difficult day. I came home with little written, but enough ideas to fill the page, and a bit of a headache. I struggled through the next thousand words (you can see the extreme pain by reading through the first few paragraphs), before falling into the ending. I have a bit more written, but I’ll save it for tomorrow to keep this section moving forward.
Word count: 2,023
Words remaining: 43,762
Caffeination: Coffee of some type.
Feeling: Terribly depressed and disappointed. I have to keep telling myself that it’s okay if the writing sucks. It’s the story that’s important, and this is only a first draft. There will be plenty of opportunities to go back and replace the bad writing with good; in fact, that’s what the rewriting process if for. It’s just difficult to accept this as I have these events I want to happen, and then when I type the events to make them happen, I get the above drivel. It hurts. I’m so fucked.
Word count: 2,774
Remaining words: 40,988
Caffeination: A medium-sized Seattle’s Best mocha before getting on an airplane heading to see Julies (yeah!).
Feeling: I’m still writing crap, but at least I wrote a lot of it. Yesterday’s complaints were more of the frustration of my writing. I’ve been very busy at work and I don’t feel like I’ve had the energy to write. Today was no difference, but being trapped in an airport and on an airplane certainly helped the output. Things happened a bit quickly there (sorry about blatantly stealing Harry Potter wonderful-beans (or whatever they’re called) ideas for the buns, but I needed Shel to whip out his magic somehow), and I lost track of the words. I had a few more things planned for today, but they’ll have to wait until tomorrow. I didn’t do any editing because I remembered too much of the crap that poured out of my finger. I just have to remember that this is first draft material, and the chances are, nobody (except, perhaps, Chuck, and even that is pushing things) will read all the words. Enough wasted words. I should go back and continue writing while the caffeine is floating through my veins, but I’ll resist, and save something for tomorrow.
Word count: 2,425
Words remaining: 38,563
Caffeination: Mocha from Banana Bread (also known as Panera Bread) in Newport Beach.
Feeling: The words are coming easier if not better. I’m more accepting of this first draft thing: making things happen, and then research and rewrite later. For example, the descriptions are time-consuming and difficult to do well. I throw out a few to get me started, but I know that I’ll have to go back and redo them if I ever hope to “finish” this story. I also throw out random ideas in paragraphs to see how they fit, and to see if the ideas will further the story. I’m still searching for the best way to do this. Today, I’m testing out the finish in the middle of the scene so I can jump right back in tomorrow (okay, truth be told, I got tired before I finished telling the story). I still hate the writing, but at least I’m getting the scenes out. I have a few more scenes to finish before I have to start thinking up new ones. I’m not looking forward to that.
Word count: 2,182
Words remaining: 36,478
Caffeination: A mocha from Banana Bread (again). This time I dragged the Julies with me to BB.
Feeling: The first half of the writing was tough. I had some good thoughts on where this was heading, but Banana Bread didn’t inspire me, and I think that was reflected in the way I dragged out parts of the story. I wrote the second half of the scene on the plane ride back to Seattle. It came out much easier (and with many more words than it probably warranted—but isn’t that one of the goals of the Marathon?).
The story has gotten a little away from me. Things that I had planned to happen later (such as that last part), happened before I expected, but I’ll find a way to work it into the story. I’m generally happy with the way things are developing. I see much room for improvement in the rewrite, but that’s the point, I guess. Still, all in all, I feel much better about this story than the abomination from last year.
Word count: 2,036
Words remaining: 34,442
Caffeination: Tall mocha.
Feeling: Terrible. Today was a forced day. I don’t like how it turned out or what happened. It does not go with what I thought should happen, and ruins a few parts I had planned. After a late start, I started pushing out the words to meet the goal. About halfway through, I had to go back and rewrite large parts of today’s entry, filling in details to grow the word count. I don’t like doing it, but on days like today, where everything I type seems stilted and over calculated, I don’t know what else to do, besides, of course, calling it a night and giving up, which is not in my constitution.
I spent dinner scratching notes on what will happen over the next five days or so, but I still have no idea what will happen after they leave Varis. I keep jotting down plenty of ideas for the rewrite (at least for these early parts), but my mind empties when I look further into the future. I feel like I’m trying to read ahead in the chess board more than five moves, and I can’t do it. (Damn, my English is great today.)
Word Count: 2,166
Words remaining: 32,276
Feeling: Yeah, I started off with a summation. I needed to reorient myself and get some words out. I’m exhausted again. I’m very busy at work, and when I get home, the last thing I want to do is spend another couple of hours in front of the computer. Of course, I do and will. I’m looking forward to the weekend. The last half came faster, but I felt a bit like I was spinning my wheels. I’m still not convinced this scene is important, but it is allowing me to flesh out Samuel and Audrel a bit more, which should help me develop this part of the story and set some things up. Either way, I got my words.
Word Count: 2,027
Words Remaining: 30,249
Caffeination: Tall Americano (and a half a cup of drip coffee this morning as I tried to wake myself up to do some work).
Feeling: Yeah, I know I fudged his explanation. I hadn’t thought it all the way through, and I’m not sure if it even makes a lick of sense. I wanted to get past it, though, because it was slowing me down and I was running out of time. Julie came in for today and tomorrow because of her interview, and work was very busy (it’s still very busy, I have to finish some mails after I pound out the rest of the words). Let me get back to the words.
Word count: 2,015
Words remaining: 28,234
Caffeination: 1 Advil. It was very difficult concentrating on more than a hundred or so words at a time. I should have had my fix today, but my headache and tiredness scared me of from it.
Feeling: Into the double-digit days (finally). I know, I’m telling more than showing—but I figure it just gives me a chance to go back and fill in lots of holes. I’m just glad my headache left long enough for me to get this writing done today. I’m looking forward to the weekend, when I can take bookish walks and figure out where this story is going and how I’m going to get it over the hump. And, yes, I know, I’m barely making the goal each day. My strong days of destroying the 2k boundary are long behind me. I guess as long as I keep up even this small accomplishment, I’ll get around to the real Goal.
Word count: 2,131
Words remaining: 26,103
Caffeination: Tall mocha.
Feeling: I wrote about 800 words that I had to put it aside. It wasn’t writing, it was note taking about Tommy and her Littlelings. I realized it halfway through, and savaged the parts that somewhat made a story. I know, during November I’m not supposed to do that, but for my first part about Tommy, I didn’t want it to be too terrible that I wouldn’t want to return to it. Plus, it being a Friday with nothing to do tomorrow, I felt I had the extra time to do it better (I was going to say right, but we all know there’s no way I could do that in the first draft). In the end, I glued about 50% of the stuff I wrote about Tommy back in. I’m sure I’ll find areas to glue the rest in so I wouldn’t have wasted any words.
Word count: 2,409
Words remaining: 23,694
Feeling: A very late start, but at least today I did more showing instead of telling.
Word count: 2,138
Words remaining: 21,556
Caffeination: Tall Americano and 1 Advil (taken late into the writing)
Feeling: Headachy again. Today was a bad day, and I ended up forcing too many words. It’s mostly just filler with a couple of hints for what will happen. I did make some big decisions that’ll take me out over the next week or so. Now I’m going to bed to try and get rid of this headache.
Word count: 2,016
Words remaining: 19,542
Caffeination: Who cares anymore? I’m an addict. I can accept it.
Feeling: Damn, writing was hard today. I had a bit of a headache again after a not-so-fulfilling sleep, but it passed when I started writing. The writing still felt jilted and forced, and I was happy to put enough words on the page to meet today’s goal. I’m excited about where this is heading. My list of what needs to happen over the next few days keeps growing. I know I should be working on building to the climax of the story, but except for the episodes I have planned, I’m not sure what or where the climax will take place. Suffice to say, I’m happy today is done, and I’ll be even happier when I delete this entire scene in lieu of something better. And, yeah, I tacked that last part on at the end to make count. Stopped bothering me already.
Words remaining: 17, 519
Word count: 2,023
Feeling: Holy bad melodrama, batman. I had plans to write a different scene, but my writing energy is at an all-time low. I didn’t get off my butt to start until after 9pm. I’m waiting for that third wind to set in. It’s keeping its distance, as if it knows something it doesn’t want to tell me.
Word Count: 2,237
Words Remaining: 15,282
Feeling: Bleh. THAT WAS TERRIBLE. I was hoping this would take me out of my rut, but after spinning my wheels, the rut is deeper than ever. The end is in sight—at least the end of the count. I have to work toward wrapping this up. There’s much to work with, but I sit down to write when I’m tired, and I leave little time to think on what it is I will write. I’m throwing stuff down that I haven’t thought through. It shouldn’t surprise me why it’s so difficult. With but a few words of summary, how do I expect to understand all sides. Or it could be fatigue from my new job and the work it entails. I’ll fight through it until the number above is zero, I hope. As for climaxes and conclusions, at this point, I have no idea, and I’m not willing to hold my breath to find out either.
Word Count: 2,079
Words Remaining: 13,203
Feeling: I’ve turned a corner. I now accept that the writing is terrible, the story will go no where, and the characters are pathetic and uninteresting. With all of that behind me, I can churn out words with a clear conscience, which considers only meeting the Goal and calling this done. Sure, everything about the story will be terrible and uninteresting, but at least it will be an uninteresting finished work. Every day you should try to learn a lesson. I learned mine today.
Word count: 2,235
Words remaining: 10,928
Word Count: 3,374
Words Remaining: 7,594
Word count: 3,287
Words remaining: 4,307
Word count: 3,875
Words remaining: 237
Word count: 3,526
Words remaining: goal met but not finished (53,477)
Word count: 2,013
Total words: 55,676
Word count: 2,658
Official final word count: 58,470
Feeling: It’s over. Sorry for the lackluster ending and the incredible number of loose ends. I did want the last fight to mean something and tie some of those ends up, but I’ve been thinking about the story too much lately, and it needs too much work to close it properly. When I started writing, I didn’t realize it would all take place in Varis. It makes more sense to me now, and I need to create much more about the town and the reasoning behind the slaughter (if it still happens, that is). I don’t think this part (along with the majority of the writing) will survive in the rewrite (if I rewrite), and with these thoughts, I finished most unimpressively as I barely mustered any will to write the ending. Anyway, I got it done and that’s that. As to quality—well, I’ll write down thoughts later about that. The one truth we all share: there is no such thing as quality in November.
It’s snowing in Seattle (well, it was when I originally wrote this; it took some time to finish, thanks to a bout of post-Marathon writing blues, but modern sewcrates.com technology allows me to pre-date entries, and in that small way, rewrite history as I would prefer it happened). It feels strange saying that in my own voice. But there it is. The Marathon is officially over as of yesterday. As I said before it started, it’s not hard to write 50,000 words—well, let me correct that, it is hard in that the process is at times painful, but it is not difficult to complete. Anyone with a small amount of fortitude and decent typing skills can finish it. Telling a story (I’ll even leave off the “good” part), is a different matter.
I won’t dwell too much on this year’s still unnamed work. I think parts of it were good, and most of it, not surprisingly, was bad, particularly “the writing” and “the story,” neither of which seemed important during the Marathon. The best thing was I fell upon a decent writing process. Using my trusty Moleskine, I managed to take a few notes while writing about my plans for the story and even some ideas for the rewrite. This turned out to be rather effective, more so than the type-random-words-and-hope-something-happens strategy I employed last year.
I’m unsure what will happen with this year’s entry. As I was writing, I had thoughts of rewriting it after November (and, of course, the book tours and large money sacks that would result). I won’t know if I’ll return to Varis until I reread the mess probably sometime next month.