What happens on the first day of football practice?
You get a Playbook. Everything that happens from that point forward is in context to its contents and intentions.
What happens on the first day of class, besides nausea? You get a syllabus. With the same forward-looking intentions.
What happens when you write a novel that is not developed in context to something? Either relative to storytelling aesthetics and/or specific narrative flow?
Disaster, that’s what happens. So let’s avoid that.
You need a Playbook. Here it is.
Open this link. Print out the contents of the post. Then staple it next to your computer, and maybe on your refrigerator.
It’s that empowering.
Skim the intro. Forget the closing. It’s the middle section where the gold resides. Everything we do from this point forward during this October planning month, and then everything you write during the November writing month itself, is in context to this.
Click here and print this one out, as well:
And then, one more.
The sum of these three posts is more than enough to not only empower you to reach your NaNoWriMo goal, it might just elevate your effort into the realm of expectations-exceeding, writing-something-publishable territory.
The conventional wisdom about NaNoWriMo is both right and wrong.
Right: forget about self-editing in real time as you go. In fact, overwrite. Get it all down. You’re compiling words, so don’t be shy, you can always go back in with a hacksaw later.
Wrong: what you write will almost always require major surgery, this is quantity over quality, don’t set your expectations too high.
Nope. That’s naive. That’s defeatist. That’s… for the unenlightened writer.
If you want that last one to be proven wrong, and if you want to be the writer who does the proving… study these three posts via these three links.
If this stuff doesn’t light you on fire, you are literary asbestos.
Because if you’ve read this far you’re really into this. Here’s a little reward: