Story A Day #25 NaNoWriMo

The prompt today was to write a hidden message into the story.  Can you find the one in this story?  If you can, post it in the comments.

It was finally November, the month I had been waiting for all year.  Like every November for the past eight years, I was participating in the National Novel Writing Month’s write a 50,000 novel in 30 days marathon. Over one million people participate in this marathon around the world. Various levels of experience were represented, and in fact, many participants only wrote during this month.

Eager to get started, I sat at my computer and opened my word document, ready to begin. Taking this challenge required a great degree of self-discipline and perseverance along with support from the community of writers who were also taking part.  Accountability rested with the writer, there was no one who was going to read what you wrote and make sure it was 50,000 words.  Kissing any idea of a life for the next 30 days I started typing and lost myself in the words that were flowing through my fingers.

In the writing world, there are two types of writers: "pantsers" who write off the top of their heads with no plan or story outline, and "plotters" who do an enormous amount of prep beforehand and come into the marathon with a well-developed outline to write from during November. Not being one to plan anything, I fell into the "pantser" category writing off the top of my head, although I had some idea of what my novel was going to be about.  

Generally, I would start out strong, writing happily every day and staying on top of the daily word count required to finish on time.  Once I fell behind, however, which was inevitable for me, I would start to procrastinate more than I usually did.

Now, I should mention that of the eight years I had been doing this, I had only succeeded three times, but this year I was determined to finish no matter what.

Writing was a hobby I had a love/hate relationship with, and it had always been that way.  Regularly sitting down every day to write was something I had been striving for but had only achieved during the NaNoWriMo marathons.  I loved writing once I got started, but I was a hopeless procrastinator and it would take me all day to get started and I would end up writing into the wee hours of the morning.

Today however I was going to change all that by putting my computer on the kitchen table and sitting there for one hour every day until November 30. I had told everyone I was doing this, which was something I hadn’t done any other year.  Needing outside encouragement I put it out there on social media and told my family, and was surprised at how many people were rooting for me!

“Get on with it, Charlie,” I told myself

Clock watching was counterproductive so I made sure I couldn’t see a clock while I was writing and disciplined myself not to take a look at the clock on the computer. Half an hour later I had written half of what I needed for the day, and I felt encouraged.

And then I hit a snag on day 15, and my brain emptied of all thought.

“Lame, lame, lame, “I yelled as I reread what I had written so far, which is something I never do.

“Let me read it, maybe I can help, what’s wrong with it?” my partner offered.

“Everything!” I said knowing how childish I sounded but unable to stop myself.

“No, I don’t want you to read it, it’s garbage”

“Good luck then,” she said and walked away.

Every year was the same, and she was used to this high emotion and frustration during this time and she knew leaving me alone was the best course of action.  Slowly I began to type again and eventually my words started to flow, as they always did.

But by the time I arrived at day 20, I was a wreck.  Every day I had written less and less and now I was so far behind it would take a miracle to get my 50,000 words. Confidence flagging and motivation nowhere to be seen, I sat staring at the computer screen.

At this point in the marathon, I would start thinking about quitting and conceding that it was just too hard to maintain this pace any longer.  Usually, I fell into a deep depression over the whole thing and it only worsened if I gave up, so I made a resolution to just keep writing till November 30 and even if I didn’t make 50,000 words at least I had written for 30 days.

Sucking it up, I continued writing, now not caring how many words I did, just setting the timer for one hour and plugging away.  Eventually, I got to the end of the month and was relieved and ecstatic that I had actually achieved my goal.

There was much congratulating from all of my supporters and fellow writers who “knew I could do it all along”. 

Having achieved such an ambitious goal made me feel like a real writer and I was proud of myself.  Especially wonderful was knowing that I now had 50,000 words of a novel that I could go back and edit and maybe even finish some day.

You know, I was kidding myself about that actually, I have never gone back and read anything I have ever wrote.  Keeping the stories on my computer was my promise to myself to do that one day, however, because I did have a dream of becoming published. Even if I did it myself.  Every writer has that same dream, I realized and only a very small number of us will achieve that goal.

Perseverance and hard work and the ability to really chase after that dream are the keys to success.  My lack of confidence in my ability to write something worth reading is one of my biggest faults.  Every year people asked to read what I wrote and told me they are looking forward to reading my novel when it’s done.

Well, I have news for them, this writer has a computer full of half-finished novels and short stories.  Ready for some celebrating I headed out to the wrap party at William’s coffee pub, looking forward to a waffle and some great conversation.

Inside the restaurant, there were about 20 writers congregating in one section.

There were several who were writing furiously to finish by midnight.

I saw my friends and went over to join them.

“Nice going, Charlie”  my friends said, giving me hugs and high fives.

“Good on you for finishing!”

Everyone I knew had finished and we eagerly went up to the counter to order our waffles, as part of our Wafflepalooza victory dance.

Victory was sweet and even though I had sworn I would never do this to myself again, I knew I would be back at it again next year.

Eating my waffle and sharing horror stories about our long month, I felt so blessed to have these people in my life to write with me and support me as I do them in return.

Ready to leave, I walked over to the people who were still writing furiously and offered more encouragement and support to them as they tried hard to finish on time.

“You can do it, guys, keep plugging away,” I said,

“Don’t give up!”

As I drove home I sang along with the radio, high on the sugar from my waffle and my own success in achieving the goal in spite of myself.

“You are a writer,” I said to myself with a huge grin.