By DeAnna Knippling
So you’re thinking about doing NaNoWriMo this year for the
first time. Or you’re thinking about doing better
this year. Or you’re partially through NaNo and you’re stuck and you hate life
and you’re reading NaNo blogs because you just like to punish yourself for not
being good enough as a writer.
Um, yeah.
NaNoWriMo is a kind of hothouse of writing. It brings up all
kinds of ugly things that encapsulate our failures as writers - or at least the
failures as we see them.
So let’s get past that, not by treating NaNoWriMo as a kind
of writers’ resolution, (”This year, I will
write 50,000 words, mostly by...I don’t know, just forcing myself!”) but by
looking at the root causes.
Here’s my premise: anything that stops you from writing is a bad
writing technique.
1. I don’t know what
to write.
Tip: Pick the first
memorable person you think of, drop them in a memorable setting (it’s easier if
you know the setting reasonably well), and give them a problem they can’t solve
using their normal M.O. (that is, don’t give a firefighter a fire to put
out--give them a parent with cancer).
It’s not that we don’t know what to write. It’s that we get
hung up on finding the perfect thing
to write. Why is that? Because we’re secretly convinced that stories aren’t
about how the story’s told, but about the idea that sets them off.
And yet. Everybody who’s ever admitted to being a writer in
public has heard this: “I have this great idea for a book. Why don’t you write
it for me - I’ll even give you a percentage of the profits. Fifty-fifty!” As
though the idea was worth half the work in the book. You’d laugh at that
person...if it wasn’t you.
If you’re held up on the idea, then coming up with the
perfect idea has got to go. Because anything that stops you from writing is a bad
writing technique.
2. I have no time to
write.
Tip: Give up Facebook
and Twitter for November. If you want to get really extreme, give up all
non-job reading and entertainment for the month...no reading, no games, no going
out, no socializing...but them’s desperate measures.
You have time to write. I’m sorry, you do. It’s not about
time, it’s about fear.
I had a talk with my daughter yesterday about math class,
which she normally likes and finds easy. This year, she has a math teacher who
throws things at her faster than she’s comfortable with. I could have a talk
with the teacher about slowing things down for her or helping her somehow. Maybe getting her a tutor (well, other than me). Instead my daughter and I discussed learning
and what it feels like, and how easy it is to run away from feeling like that. I
told her that part of a good teacher’s job is to unsettle you, to get you used
to and over the terror of learning.
I told her it’s okay to take breaks from your homework, but
she can’t run away.
You have time to write; it’s just easier to justify cooking healthy meals and spending some extra time with the kids
and doing laundry and Dr. Who and even puttering around on Facebook than it is to face learning something
new. If you have fifteen minutes, you can have a page of fiction.
Yes. You can. When you’re not screwing around like a kid
trying to avoid homework. When you’re not paralyzed by fear.
Telling yourself you have no time to write stops you from
writing--it’s a bad writing technique.
3. I write nothing
but crap.
Tip: Check all the
items on this list:
- Did I
drink enough water?
- Have I
eaten? Have I eaten something other than crap during one of my last two meals?
- Have I had
enough sleep?
- Have I had
enough exercise?
- Have I
journaled/stress relieved lately?
Some people are surprised to find out that mental effort is
physically draining, and learning
something new is even worse. NaNo is a writing marathon, and it will burn
energy and other resources faster than you’re used to. When you feel drained
and horrible about your writing, first check that your body (or subconscious)
isn’t trying to send you a message: I
need fuel and/or repairs.
The other part of this issue is the nature of crap.
The bad news is that we all write crap. The good news is
that when you know you’re writing
crap, it means you’re ahead of the game--seriously. In order to learn something
new, you have to be uncomfortable with where you are now. Viscerally. Painfully.
The idea that you have to feel like you're writing well in order to be a good
writer sounds logical but it will keep you from writing and improving. It’s a bad writing technique!
4. I wrote for a
while, but now I’m stuck and I don’t know what to do.
Tip: Write the next
thing. Or maybe back up a paragraph or two, delete that, and then write the next thing.
Last year I took up knitting as a bucket-list kind of thing.
I’d failed miserably at it as a kid - my mom’s right-handed to my leftiness, and
she’s no good at explaining things from the other direction. I thought I was
doomed. However, then I realized I have
the Internet. I must have gone through fifty knitting videos on learning
how to get started knitting before I found The
One That Made Sense. At one point, I could have watched knitting videos all
day. Instead of actually, you know, knitting.
You can, and should, and will
do research to find out what works for you. But it has to be based on your
personal trial and error, not on other people’s advice. No class, no mentor, no
co-author can replace Butt in Chair, Fingers on Keyboard. The only way to get
comfortable with writing is to write.
But what if you’re stuck? Seriously stuck? And you can’t
write another word?
You can. You must.
During any long writing project, you will more than likely
get stuck at some point, especially as you realize you have no idea what you’re
doing, what you’ve been doing, or what you’re going to do next. I’ve talked to
writers at various levels of experience. As far as I can tell, this feeling never goes away.
So you look up and realize you’ve painted yourself into a
corner. Oh, no - there’s no way to get the characters out of this situation! Clearly,
it’s time to completely rewrite the
entire book. Or just quit writing. FOREVER.
Except there always is a way out of every fictional
situation, no matter how bad, because the characters get to destroy the walls
and tramp all over the paint. Nuclear bombs? Alien invasion? Falling in love
with someone else entirely? That’s what edits are for: rewriting the opening so the ending fits.
When you get stuck, write the next sentence. It might be
weird, ungrammatical, awkward, annoying, offensive, etc., etc. Just plain wrong.
It is also yours
in a way that the best-planned, structurally pretty sentences will never be. When
you have pushed past everything you can think and plan, then you enter into a
territory of naked honesty, which is often ugly and just plain wrong.
This is where the art of writing lies. The rest is craft. You
need to know craft. I love craft. But
this is where the art is, where you go, “I have nothing. I know nothing. I am
writing out on a limb, on a one-sided bridge off a cliff with no opposite bank.
I am skydiving without a parachute. I am a fake. I am full of crap and so is this.”
But that’s where the good stuff is.
This idea that you’re stuck because you’re at a dead
end - it’s a lie, it’s fear talking. It stops you from writing - so it’s gotta'
go. You’re stuck because you’re at the edge of the cliff. The next sentence you
write must be magic. Not because it
was good (although it will be, if you let yourself recognize it), but because you were able to write it at all.
5. Now what?
Tip: Continue to be a
pain in the butt and do what’s right for you as a writer.
At some point, you’ll decide that you’ve finished your NaNo
novel, or that you’re not going to.
In either case, you’re going to hear some negative things about
NaNo authors, or people who don’t finish, or people who do, or new writers in
general, or whatever. The people who depend on you will be relieved that it’s
over. You will be relieved that it’s
over.
You’ll be left dangling. Now what?
People will give you advice. A lot of it will sound really
logical.
However, if it makes you want to stop writing, it’s a bad
writing technique. No matter how logical it is, no matter how long people have
been doing it. It’s bad. If you just want to work on something new and not
finish your NaNo project - do that. (If you never want to do NaNo again - then
don’t!) If you want to keep writing every day despite the fact that people tell or imply that you suck - then write. If the idea of submitting makes you want to never write again - then
don’t submit (yet). If the idea of having to perfect your work before you can
submit it makes you want to roll up in a ball - then submit before it’s perfect.
If getting too many rejections kills you - then take it slow, or wait until you've written five other things and you don't care whether that old thing gets rejected or not. Work around the
problems until they aren’t problems anymore. Learn one thing at a time, not all
at once. Be kind to yourself. Keep writing.
Everything else is a bad
writing technique.
About the Author: DeAnna Knippling started freelancing in May 2011 and wouldn’t be able to do it without her wonderful family and friends, especially her husband. In fact, she owes a lot to Pikes Peak Writers for helping her be a better writer, especially through the Write Brains, both in the lectures and in meeting lots of other writers.
Her reason for writing is to entertain by celebrating her family’s tradition of dry yet merry wit, and to help ease the suffering of lack of self-confidence, having suffered it many years herself. She also likes to poke around and ask difficult questions, because she hates it when people assume something must be so.
For more kicks in the writerly pants, see her blog at www.deannaknippling.com or her ebook How to Fail & Keep on Writing, available at Smashwords, B&N, Amazon, and OmniLit.