Nanowrimo starts tomorrow and I can’t wait. I feel alert and ready, like a runner poised for the crack of the pistol. I’m not sure where all this energy is coming from. I’m busy at work, have a novel to rescue from drudgery, and a trip to look forward to in a month. And yet, the idea appeals.
Can I come up with something decent without having done any prep work? Can I churn out thousands of words every night that won’t sound mechanical or forced? Most importantly, will I be able to keep myself motivated, especially after I hit the dreaded midmonth slump the experienced nanwrimoers talk about?
Maybe it will work, maybe it won’t. For me, part of the thrill is not knowing. I have a pretty healthy idea of what constitutes personal failure, so I’m not too worried if I don’t ‘win’ = that’s what they call it when you complete the 50,000 word limit.
See, I haven’t started yet, and already I’m challenging the idea of winning. I guess at my core I’m not much of a participant. I like the idea of camaraderie and feeling as if I’m part of something, but eventually I always go my own way, breaking as many rules as I can comfortably get away with. I’m not alone though. Lots of writers express similar nonconformist, rebellious attitudes.
So what does that mean for the thousands of like-minded writers also signed up to Nano? Are we going to help other writers complete, ignore them as we push on, or clumsily trip them up so we can reach the finish line first?
Not that it matters. Rivalry and pleasantries aside, no matter how many writing buddies you have, in this race it is really yourself you are competing against. Especially when it the majority of work is done alone and never en masse. Saying that, I understand the appeal of attempting a crazy endeavour while tons of people stand on the sidelines cheering you on. Sort of like bungee jumping naked, but probably not as much fun.