I won NaNoWriMo!
But did I cheat to do so?
Welcome, writers. I’m Kerry, a long-time writer of super-short pieces, which makes my dream of writing a full-length book particularly challenging. (I describe part of this struggle below!)
This issue is brought to you by paid subscriber Janet, for whom I wish days ripe with the fruit of creativity. Thank you, Janet, for supporting Real Quick.
I had it all planned. After barely touching the incoherent 50K words I wrote during NaNoWriMo 2022, which was the most, by far, I’d ever written for one single writing project, I came up with the perfect plan for this year’s NaNoWriMo: I’d write the draft of my memoir all over again. What I wrote last year, though plentiful, was too much of a mess to try to put into a story arc. This November, I’d use the momentum of NaNoWriMo—knowing writers all over the world were also feverishly working on their projects for these 30 days—and the knowledge I’d gained about narrative writing in the last year, to write a more intentional draft.
I studied the hero’s journey. I got myself into an optimistic headspace. I turned 40 on October 28th (!), funneling that energy and excitement into winning NaNoWriMo again. Getting through this draft would be only one step of the gazillion it will take to finally finish this book, but I was ready. Eager, even!
Then, on November 1st, I was selected to serve as a juror for a several-day homicide trial.
In last month’s newsletter, I called this “a time commitment and emotional toll I hadn’t accounted for.” I got very behind very quickly: on November 6th, when I should have had 10K words, I’d written only 4,996.
I’ve fallen behind in previous years of NaNoWriMo, too, though not from the outset like this time. With the exception of last year, I’d eventually become some combination of too intimidated and too stressed out to keep going, and would stop trying.
“Maybe next year,” I’d tell myself in consolation.
But I’m realizing that reaching goals requires more than passion and discipline—it also requires flexibility.
So, to catch up with my word count, I bent some rules. Specifically, I included unpublished-as-of-yet pieces—essays that I’ve (unsuccessfully) pitched about being childfree by choice, vignettes about the start of my teaching career that I’ve never quite finished—in my NaNoWriMo manuscript.
On one hand, the fact that I used a handful of already-written pieces makes me feel like, and quite possibly qualifies me as, a cheater. On the other, the bulk of my overall word count follows the challenge’s guidelines: words written during November. And besides, isn’t the point of NaNoWriMo to make (significant, messy) progress toward the lofty goal of Actually Finishing a Book?
I know myself: if I hadn’t figured out a way to get back on pace with the word count, especially so early on in the month, I would’ve surrendered. Despite all my plans. My excitement. I would’ve told myself I’d try again later, somehow, some way. And I would’ve put my book to the side. Again.
Maybe I didn’t technically win NaNoWriMo this year. But I have a much-more-organized, better-developed draft than I’ve ever had before.
And I’m going to keep writing. Revising. I will finish this book. I’m ready—eager, even.
I’m writing
this memoir! And—a loosely holiday-themed essay, with a loosely holiday-themed vignette to follow. Both pieces are for The Baltimore Banner; even after a year and a half of contributing to this outlet, I remain so, so grateful for the opportunity.
I’m reading
Between Two Kingdoms: A Memoir of a Life Interrupted, Suleika Jaouad’s debut, which has been on my list for some time now. During NaNoWriMo, I decided I’d spend December reading memoirs; when I found out via my cousin
’s newsletter that she’d recently started Jaouad’s, it was an easy decision to start with this one.I’m recommending
This episode of the This Morning Walk podcast. I listened to this conversation between co-hosts
and Libby DeLana when it came out in January; ten months later, it still resonated with me enough to, like Alex says, become less rigid. Their voices in my ear granted me the permission to adapt during NaNoWriMo, even though it felt (and feels) a little wrong to do so.This episode of the Write-minded podcast, which is co-hosted by publisher
and Grant Faulkner, the executive director of NaNoWriMo. Listening to it about two-thirds of the way through NaNoWriMo, I felt such relief at Grant’s reminder that “[t]he point [of NaNoWriMo] is to keep writing and make creativity a part of your life.”This episode of the
podcast. It features Author Accelerator book coaches (which I will be someday soon-ish, too!) giving great advice about how to keep working with your manuscript after NaNoWriMo is over.
Something other than a fourth podcast episode! Like the one immediately above, this article also supports writers in the aftermath of NaNoWriMo—specifically, what not to do. I’m learning my lesson from last year, and will not take time off from my book: I’m picking up that draft again tomorrow, and every Monday in the foreseeable future, regardless of what other obligations I need to meet.
I’m reminding you
that it’s not about the rules or the rewards; it’s about doing what it takes to share your story.
You’re reacting
Write yourself a permission slip to let go of whatever it is that holds you back from writing.
Write a letter to yourself from your current writing project. What does it want and/or need from you?
If you participated in NaNoWriMo this year, what lessons did you learn? How can you apply them the rest of the year?
Who is your favorite rule-bender or breaker? How would you like to be more like them?
Consider the word rigid. What benefit does being rigid bring? What potential harm?