Tosca Lee's Blog - Posts Tagged "writing-advice"
NaNoWriMo
To date I've written eight novels (one unpublished, lurking like a skeleton in my basement) and two computer books. (Yes. I started my professional, paid career writing about computers.) Ten books later, I still find something wildly appealing about National Novel Writing Month. I've written a great bulk of my published work during NaNoWriMo... and the rest of it during self-imposed wild writing binges. I practically kill myself each time, swear off ever putting myself through such straits again... and then do it once more. I've come to accept this as my standard M.O. Looking back to high school and college, I can tell you that every single paper I ever wrote was accomplished in an all-nighter that ended the morning it was due.
Why?
I think it comes down to the fact that I've watched too many movies. You know the ones with the heart-thumping montages--where the hero, after procrastinating and eventually hitting rock bottom, picks himself up and goes all mad dog? Yes, I'm talking about the Rocky movies. You, Me, and Dupree. Back to School. The Karate Kid. A League of Their Own.
Call me cheesy, but I love that stuff (admit it, you do, too.) We love it for two reasons. The first is that we all procrastinate to some degree. And what's another name for procrastination? Fear. Plain and simple. We are afraid. That we will fail. That what we produce will not look like the vision in our heads. That we will prove to ourselves that the little voice (or big one) saying we will never achieve it will be right. So we do something else. We go out with friends. We clean. We drink. We watch TV. We hide in the safety of relationships and urgent to-dos.
The second reason: Because there comes a point where, if you get sick of it enough--or mad enough--you have no choice but to go balls-to-the-walls through your fear and do it. To the exclusion (almost) of all else. Because, simply put, the pain of not doing it is worse than the fear of trying.
My father, an academic, has written more than 60 books. He has told me numerous times that there's value in intensity. The pressure keeps it immediate.
This is how I write. It may not work for everyone. On occasion, I will indeed sit down for a few days in a row, plunk out 2000 words, and stop for the day. And truthfully, that's probably far healthier in the long run. But we're not talking about health here if we're rabid about pursuing dreams. We're talking about passion. And so... at some point every few months, I go silent on my friends. I show up to events late (if I haven't begged off on them altogether). I cancel haircuts and workouts. I make excuses like an addict defending a drug habit. I write until I'm cross-eyed during the wee (or late) hours of morning, stagger to bed, and do it again the next day. Yes, it is exhausting. But more than that... it is exciting. The action of my story is immediate, pouring out of me in 500, then 2000... 8000... even 16,000 words per day.
Momentum of that sort breeds its own velocity.
I have done this while holding down two jobs, while being married, and while traveling the world for my work every week. Because frankly, I was too pissed off at my own fear (and I have much) not to barrel through it.
And apparently I don't know how to barrel in slow-motion.
For me, that's what it takes. For all my numerous attempts at discipline, I have never kept well to routine. Obsessive momentum sees me through until, reaching the end, I can rest for days, slack off for a while, turn my attention to cleaning my house, sorting out my inbox, and picking up the pieces of everything I let fall to hell while I was working... before returning to my work and beginning to piece it together far more cohesively than it came out.
That's why I love NaNoWriMo. Because for one month, I am surrounded by others barreling through the same fear as me.
Maybe you're the disciplined type. You'll never be the one cramming for a semester's worth of work--or half a novel's worth of writing--in one night. Chances are, you'll be the healthier for it. You can measure your passion out in doses like medicine. Don't change. Just up the stakes and push the limits a little more--if not for Nano, then for a specified period of time. Because there's magic in intensity and pushing yourself just beyond what you think you can do. But if you're like me, and will never reconcile yourself to a neatly-blocked schedule, quit beating yourself up for not being like your more structured peers. Soar with your bad self. Give yourself permission, and go for it. Time to glean the gold and edit after.
Why?
I think it comes down to the fact that I've watched too many movies. You know the ones with the heart-thumping montages--where the hero, after procrastinating and eventually hitting rock bottom, picks himself up and goes all mad dog? Yes, I'm talking about the Rocky movies. You, Me, and Dupree. Back to School. The Karate Kid. A League of Their Own.
Call me cheesy, but I love that stuff (admit it, you do, too.) We love it for two reasons. The first is that we all procrastinate to some degree. And what's another name for procrastination? Fear. Plain and simple. We are afraid. That we will fail. That what we produce will not look like the vision in our heads. That we will prove to ourselves that the little voice (or big one) saying we will never achieve it will be right. So we do something else. We go out with friends. We clean. We drink. We watch TV. We hide in the safety of relationships and urgent to-dos.
The second reason: Because there comes a point where, if you get sick of it enough--or mad enough--you have no choice but to go balls-to-the-walls through your fear and do it. To the exclusion (almost) of all else. Because, simply put, the pain of not doing it is worse than the fear of trying.
My father, an academic, has written more than 60 books. He has told me numerous times that there's value in intensity. The pressure keeps it immediate.
This is how I write. It may not work for everyone. On occasion, I will indeed sit down for a few days in a row, plunk out 2000 words, and stop for the day. And truthfully, that's probably far healthier in the long run. But we're not talking about health here if we're rabid about pursuing dreams. We're talking about passion. And so... at some point every few months, I go silent on my friends. I show up to events late (if I haven't begged off on them altogether). I cancel haircuts and workouts. I make excuses like an addict defending a drug habit. I write until I'm cross-eyed during the wee (or late) hours of morning, stagger to bed, and do it again the next day. Yes, it is exhausting. But more than that... it is exciting. The action of my story is immediate, pouring out of me in 500, then 2000... 8000... even 16,000 words per day.
Momentum of that sort breeds its own velocity.
I have done this while holding down two jobs, while being married, and while traveling the world for my work every week. Because frankly, I was too pissed off at my own fear (and I have much) not to barrel through it.
And apparently I don't know how to barrel in slow-motion.
For me, that's what it takes. For all my numerous attempts at discipline, I have never kept well to routine. Obsessive momentum sees me through until, reaching the end, I can rest for days, slack off for a while, turn my attention to cleaning my house, sorting out my inbox, and picking up the pieces of everything I let fall to hell while I was working... before returning to my work and beginning to piece it together far more cohesively than it came out.
That's why I love NaNoWriMo. Because for one month, I am surrounded by others barreling through the same fear as me.
Maybe you're the disciplined type. You'll never be the one cramming for a semester's worth of work--or half a novel's worth of writing--in one night. Chances are, you'll be the healthier for it. You can measure your passion out in doses like medicine. Don't change. Just up the stakes and push the limits a little more--if not for Nano, then for a specified period of time. Because there's magic in intensity and pushing yourself just beyond what you think you can do. But if you're like me, and will never reconcile yourself to a neatly-blocked schedule, quit beating yourself up for not being like your more structured peers. Soar with your bad self. Give yourself permission, and go for it. Time to glean the gold and edit after.
