To NaNo or Not to NaNo?: That is the Question

Yes, it really is. Because although, yes, NaNoWriMo did finish in November, Camp NaNo starts in April, and let’s face it, that is a mere 75 days away! Now, before you all want to hit me for reminding you of how fleeting time is (and how fragile that makes you feel as a human being, and a bookdragon), I would like to point out that I am not the one who came up with the idea of writing the entire first draft of a novel within a month.

In 2016, I participated in the contest that runs from November 1st to November 30th for the first time, and I reached the goal of 50,000 words on November 28th. (In fact, it was 51,000 words and some change.) I was feeling pretty darn proud of myself, when I clicked on the “winner’s circle” link on the website to see what I’d won. Since I knew NaNoWriMo is supported by donations, and there’s no fee for writers to enter, I wasn’t expecting much — maybe a few sacks of free pens and notebooks and paperback editions of the latest Nora Roberts or something. However, it really brought me down to discover that NaNo winners have to pay for everything offered in the package — editing and writing software, subscription boxes, even the t-shirt that says “I won NaNo.”

Yup, you read that right. Pay for what you “won.” Not full price, though — you get, like, a 40% discount. That’s apparently how they justify making you bust your behind for 30 days and feeling like hell at the end of it for nothing except street cred and bragging rights.

Now, maybe it’s just me, but this system seems tremendously unfair. After all, when I am told there are “prizes,” I hear that as “free after completing said criteria.” For example, when you enter a giveaway on a blog, and the requirement is: a) put a comment on this post, b) tweet about this post, and c) if you win, you get a free copy of the new Maggie Stiefvater. Just what it says on the tin.

So, given that I had just put myself through a month of blood, sweat and tears (in some cases very literally), evidently for nothing other than the chance to plaster it all over Twitter, it made me rather discouraged.

It also made me seriously reconsider the idea of signing up for Camp NaNo, or regular NaNo, in 2017. Although I did participate in Camp NaNo in April, I was not at all satisfied with the end result, and ended up making a lot of major changes to what was supposed to be a final draft. What was my downfall? I truly believe the strict time factor. Having only 30 days to attempt a full-length piece of fiction is just not realistic, relieving, or creatively-inspiring.

We’ve all heard there are writers who “work best under pressure.” I don’t buy this for a second. Consider, instead, the very wise words of Douglas Adams: “I love deadlines — I love the sound they make as they go whooshing past.” As with any creative occupation, writing is an individual process, the completion of which pertains to the particular requirements of that specific work. Yes, there are benefits to setting a time frame and sticking to it. But too many times (especially for indie authors, or indie photographers, artists, unpaid bloggers and reviewers), this just is not how life will go.

In the past two years, I’ve seen many people start NaNo, finish it, not finish it, decide to quit, feel pressured to quit, feel pressured to finish. When we have to pay for the t-shirt, for the love of pete, is all of this anxiety and stress really necessary?

Yes, a lot of former NaNo winners have gone to receive publishing contracts, or become indie authors. But NaNo is not our only route to this end. Plenty of literary agencies accept submissions from people who’ve never even heard of the contest. When you open a self-publishing account on Amazon or Barnes & Noble, there isn’t a question, “Have you ever won NaNoWriMo?”

So, although I have plenty of time to reconsider, here’s why I’m actively talking myself out of getting involved in NaNo in any capacity in 2018:

It is very time consuming. I can’t stress this point enough. November is a busy month, as it includes the start of holiday shopping, Thanksgiving, and usually a lot of school stuff, like mid-term progress reports and special ed meetings. Attempting to write 1700 words a day on top of just living becomes way too hard. (Again, for what reason?)

Quality over quantity. Yes, a first draft completed in a month is going to be chock full of typos, plot holes (big enough to drive a Mack truck through), misspelled characters’ names, and whole sentences that don’t really make any sense. But for those of us — like me — who prefer to write slower to begin with, so that there are less mistakes to fix later, the pressure to get those numbers up becomes a chore. Aren’t we supposed to be creating a labor of love here, not just a labor?

There are other things to life than writing. Yes, this is true, I swear it. Those of us who write as more than a hobby feel the very real pressure of making time for perfecting our craft around family commitments, other jobs or pursuits, and the occasional emergency or unforeseen occurrence. And, I promise, the world will not end if you can’t get that WIP done the same week as grocery shopping/the family portrait for the Christmas card/the cat’s trip to the vet. No one will think any less of you for saying you can’t do NaNo because, reasons. (And if they do, that’s their problem, not yours at all.)

Are there good things about NaNo? Yeah. It encourages self-discipline, and the freedom of not being a perfectionist, and achieving the hard first step of getting that new WIP underway.

But taking into account that the rewards are not quite worth the cost (at least in my view), I think I’m going to opt out from now on.