Pep Talk

Hi there NaNoWriMo writer.

I'm writing this on a Sony notebook perched precariously on my lap, said lap created by me slouching in the red armchair in my living room. Prior to the red armchair slouching I thought about what I was going to write on my walk home from my office (a luxury of my later writing life) and I scribbled down some notes with the first pen that came to hand while I was standing up in the kitchen cooking dinner. Which leads me to my first bit of advice.

1) Don't get hung up about how, where and with what you write.

Most of my earlier novels I wrote longhand first, only typing up each chapter or sometimes a bunch of chapters when I could get to a computer. Many of my later books I wrote parts of longhand but much more directly on many different computers, in bedrooms and living rooms, park benches, offices, beaches and even on the wall of a crusader castle. The location doesn't matter, and you don't need a great computer, or any computer at all, to start with. Many famous novels were written on pieces of paper with pens or even pencils. You can always type it or get it typed later. Don't let the lack of a computer, or the lack of a desk, or a writing room, or an attic, or a comfortable cafe or time to go somewhere put you off. Writing in bed can be pretty productive, or in the bath (though best to not use a laptop there). Try writing wherever and whenever you can, and see what works.

2) The journey of a book begins with a single chapter.

I never actually sit down in front of a blank screen or a piece of paper and tell myself I have to write a ninety or one hundred thousand word novel. I tell myself I have to write a chapter, which typically will be somewhere between two and five thousand words. That's a much more achievable task. Then, when I've written a chapter, I put it aside for
revision and tell myself I have to write the next one. Eventually, I discover that just by writing a chapter at a time, I've written a book.

Dear NaNoWriMo Author,

You’re hearty stock. This is obvious. You don’t have prissy notions about the muse as some airy thing that sometimes does and sometimes does not alight on your shoulder. And I like this about you. It is, in fact, one of your most endearing qualities.

If you look at the world one way, it takes from you---it’s a thief of time, energy, creative mojo. But if you look at the world another way, it gives you an endless supply of motivation. Here are a few things that the world offers (in furious fistfuls) that get my butt into the chair: petty jealousy, the chip on my shoulder (a slight deformity I was born with), my kids’ pending orthodontia bills, guilt of the Catholic variety, rejection, and, on a Freudian level: my parents’ love.

And now my tips:

Polish your jealousy to a high shine---like the chrome of a well-loved Mustang.
My jealousy took the form of the phrase "two-book deal with Dutton." My student, Sharon Mitchell, who went on to become #2 on the African American Bestseller's list for her first novel Nothin’ But the Rent, had just gotten a two-book deal with Dutton. I hadn't. I was her teacher. I'd been at this, seemingly forever. She was a psychologist, dabbling in the novel. This phrase haunted me: "two-book deal with Dutton, two-book deal with Dutton." Luckily, I couldn’t shake it. At that point we were running a boarding house out of our home, and my desk was in the living room. Every night I went to bed, after turning off my computer, late at night, and it had a light that, even when the computer was off, blinked at me across the room. Each time it blinked it said, “Two-book deal with Dutton, two-book deal with Dutton.”

Ditto the chip on your shoulder. Treat it well. Feed it crackers, and maybe it’ll turn into a parakeet---one of those blue ones who knows how to cuss.

November 4, 2008

Dear NaNoWriMo Author,

You could write a novel about the act of writing a novel. It's a heroic act. (Or so I tell myself as I sit here in my garret study, chewing my nails, scratching my nose and staring blankly at my screen. That's what this is, I say grimly: a heroic act.) Why is it so heroic? Because it fits the mythic pattern of all great legendary heroes' lives. It's the story of a mighty quest accepted, of a long journey undertaken, of insuperable obstacles overcome and finally—in your case after 30 painful days—of lasting triumph won. It would make a fine movie, apart from the scratching the nose bit—probably starring Charlton Heston. Full of dramatic highs, dreadful lows and endless tedious bits when the audience goes out to make a cup of tea. It's an epic, all right, and we're all in it together.

Here's how it works for me. At the beginning there's a kind of honeymoon period, where I'm pretty excited by the idea in my head, and the possibilities it evokes. Sure there are a zillion details to be worked out later, and plenty of things that don't yet mesh, but that's ok—we've lots of time. I write the odd fragment and chuckle over the occasional piquant joke. I do a bit of research, visit museums wearing black roll-neck sweaters, scribble ideas down on napkins in coffee houses. It's a pleasant calm before the storm.

Then things darken a little. Time is pressing. I want to get to grips with the novel, but I haven't a clue how. This is the 'phony war' period. I now apply myself seriously to work, but the trouble is that it doesn’t hold together. Scenes start promisingly but peter into nothing. Main characters turn out to have all the zest of a cardboard box abandoned in the rain. Dialogue is lousy. Description descends into wall-to-wall cliché. No fragment lasts more than two or three pages before being printed off and tossed aside. And still the real writing hasn't begun.

November 6, 2008

Dear NaNoWriMo author,

You've started a long journey. Congratulations on your resolution and
ambition! And the first thing you need to remember is that a long journey
can't be treated like a sprint. Take your time.

The second thing you need to remember is that if you want to finish this
journey you've begun, you have to keep going. One of the hardest things to
do with a novel is to stop writing it for a while, do something else,
fulfill this engagement or that commitment or whatever, and pick it up
exactly where you left it and carry on as if nothing had happened. You will
have changed; the story will have drifted off course, like a ship when the
engines stop and there's no anchor to keep it in place; when you get back
on board, you have to warm the engines up, start the great bulk of the ship
moving through the water again, work out your position, check the compass
bearing, steer carefully to bring it back on track ... all that energy
wasted on doing something that wouldn't have been necessary at all if you'd
just kept going!

But once you've established a daily rhythm of work, you'll find it
energising and sustaining in itself. Even when it's not going well. This is
a strange thing, but I've noticed it many times: a bad day's work is a lot
better than no day's work at all. At least if you've written 500 words, or
1000 words, or whatever you discover is your most comfortable daily rate of
production, the words are there to work on later. And when you do visit
them in a month's time, or whenever it is, you often find that they're not
so bad after all.

The question authors get asked more than any other is "Where do you get
your ideas from?" And we all find a way of answering which we hope isn't
arrogant or discouraging. What I usually say is "I don't know where they
come from, but I know where they come to: they come to my desk, and if I'm

October 28, 2008

Dear National Novel Writing Month Author,

Hi there! NaNoWriMo Program Director Chris Baty here. Before we get rolling, I wanted to give you a quick guide to our upcoming five weeks of literary domination.

Here's the plan:

Today: Make a tax-deductible donation to help us pay for National Novel Writing Month. So far, we've received donations from 3.4% of our participants, putting us 6.6% away from our goal. Chip in! Even $10 makes a big difference, and pays huge dividends in halos and noveling karma. We're a nonprofit, and we've spent hundreds of thousands of dollars readying this swashbuckling adventure for 110,000 adults and 15,000 kids and teens around the world. We need your support!

Tomorrow: Make sure you've set your time zone correctly (it's under User Settings). Some word-count features appear and disappear at midnight on November 1 and November 30, so dialing those in now will save you stress later. Join a local region, and find out when and where the first novel-writing get-togethers (called "write-ins") for your city or town will be held. Tune in to WrimoRadio, NaNoWriMo's podcast, and learn how you can be on the November 3 episode.

October 31: Get the first pep talk email. You'll receive about three of these a week—one from me and two from our panel of esteemed celebrity pep talkers—throughout November. Note: If you donate $50 or more today, you will receive six years of pep talks from me in a beautiful 80-page PDF, constituting about as much week-by-week NaNoWriMo advice and encouragement as any human being can handle without falling over.

Dear NaNoWriMo Author,

By now you're probably ready to give up. You're past that first fine furious rapture when every character and idea is new and entertaining. You're not yet at the momentous downhill slide to the end, when words and images tumble out of your head sometimes faster than you can get them down on paper. You're in the middle, a little past the half-way point. The glamour has faded, the magic has gone, your back hurts from all the typing, your family, friends and random email acquaintances have gone from being encouraging or at least accepting to now complaining that they never see you any more---and that even when they do you're preoccupied and no fun. You don't know why you started your novel, you no longer remember why you imagined that anyone would want to read it, and you're pretty sure that even if you finish it it won't have been worth the time or energy and every time you stop long enough to compare it to the thing that you had in your head when you began---a glittering, brilliant, wonderful novel, in which every word spits fire and burns, a book as good or better than the best book you ever read---it falls so painfully short that you're pretty sure that it would be a mercy simply to delete the whole thing.

Welcome to the club.

That's how novels get written.

You write. That's the hard bit that nobody sees. You write on the good days and you write on the lousy days. Like a shark, you have to keep moving forward or you die. Writing may or may not be your salvation; it might or might not be your destiny. But that does not matter. What matters right now are the words, one after another. Find the next word. Write it down. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

Dear NaNoWriMo author,

I've been trying to write this pep talk for almost a week. The problem, you see, is that I'm wickedly behind on my word count and I was determined to catch up first. Last night I realized that it wasn't going to happen. So. All you people who have vast amounts of words in the bank, gobs more than you're supposed to have at this point in the month? Super great! Keep it up! Those of you who are just a little bit depressed and crazy, not to mention googley-eyed because you've pulled eight all-nighters in a row trying to catch up? Come sit with me. We will get through this.

I started out with the best of intentions, namely letting my OCD run free. I created a spreadsheet that shows my word count for the day and what my word count should be if I had completed my 1667 words a day. Just looking at that growing column made me feel giddy---If I could just drag my way through 1667 words each day, I'd sail on through the month and be the proud owner of 50,000 shiny new words.

Then life got in the way. My horse got conjunctivitis, and while I was out treating her, I slipped and broke my foot, meaning I couldn't sit at my desk because my foot would balloon. But I was still determined, so I got up each morning, lay on the couch with my foot on pillows and my laptop propped open on my stomach. It made for a lot of typos and a toasty stomach (my laptop gets really hot!), but at least I was writing. Then my dog got sick. Really, really sick. As in, they thought she had cancer and might not come home sick. But as soon as we'd spent the requisite fortune to prove to her that we love her, she miraculously recovered (all our pets have taken up this method of proving our continued devotion). Meanwhile, my word count was slipping a little further every day. (You're probably wondering where the pep part of this pep talk comes in, aren't you?)

Hey, boys and girls!

This is Sue Grafton, just checking in to see how you're doing. I've been thinking about you often and I hope your work is going smoothly. In the event that it's not, I wanted to assure you that I get bogged down all the time. Someone asked me once if I ever got writer's block and I said, 'only once or twice a day.'

For reasons absolutely unknown to Science, many writers begin their novels with a burst of enthusiasm. There's a measurable outpouring of time and energy. I experience this myself. At the outset, my optimism rides high and my hopes are boundless. This book...this book, I say to myself...will be clever, inventive, fresh, original, witty, and profound. My characters will be complex, textured, and amazingly true to life. My prose will sing. The pacing will be relentless, yet the story will ebb and flow in a manner that will produce both thrilling surprises and quiet moments where the reader can reflect on what's gone before. My descriptive passages will be evocative, bringing scenes to life in a way that will later translate into a movie sale with all the attendant fame and glory and big bucks. (Personally, of course, I'd never sell my character to Hollywood, but you get the point...)

Dear NaNoWriMo Writer,

The single most important technique for making progress is to write ten words. Doesn't matter if you're badly stuck, or your day is completely jam-packed, or you're away from your computer---carry a small paper notebook and write a sentence of description while you're waiting on line at a coffee shop. I think of this as baiting a hook. Even if you have a few days in a row where nothing comes except those ten words, I find that as long as you have to think about the novel enough to write ten words, the chances are that more will come.

The rest of this advice comes out of my own bag of tricks for getting those ten words and then turning them into many. It may well be that only some of these or none at all will work for you; they may not fit into your life or your own mindset. But if these don't, try and come up with others that do work for you.

Remove distractions. The internet is a phenomenal research and community tool without which you might never have started the novel you're working on right now. It is an equally phenomenal tool for procrastination and wasting time. Unplug your connection. While you're at it, put down that book, turn off the TV, shut down the Wii. Make scrambled eggs and salad for dinner. The dishes can wait to be washed. Ideally, get out of your house filled with your stuff that you like and go somewhere where you have nothing better to do than write.

Dear NaNoWriMo participant,

When you sit down to begin that novel of yours, the first thing you might want to do is toss a handful of powdered napalm over both shoulders---so as to dispense with any and all of your old writing teachers, the ones whose ghosts surely will be hovering there, saying such things as, "Adverbs should never be...", or "A novel is supposed to convey...", et cetera. Enough! Ye literary bureaucrats, vamoose!

Rules such as "Write what you know," and "Show, don't tell," while doubtlessly grounded in good sense, can be ignored with impunity by any novelist nimble enough to get away with it. There is, in fact, only one rule in writing fiction: Whatever works, works.

Ah, but how can you know if it's working? The truth is, you can't always know (I nearly burned my first novel a dozen times, and it's still in print after 35 years), you just have to sense it, feel it, trust it. It's intuitive, and that peculiar brand of intuition is a gift from the gods. Obviously, most people have received a different package altogether, but until you undo the ribbons you can never be sure.

As the great Nelson Algren once said, “Any writer who knows what he's doing isn't doing very much.” Most really good fiction is compelled into being. It comes from a kind of uncalculated innocence. You need not have your ending in mind before you commence. Indeed, you need not be certain of exactly what's going to transpire on page 2. If you know the whole story in advance, your novel is probably dead before you begin it. Give it some room to breathe, to change direction, to surprise you. Writing a novel is not so much a project as a journey, a voyage, an adventure.