If everyone else was jumping off a bridge…
One of the universal childhood debates goes something like this:
You: "But Mom, all the other kids are doing it!"
Your mother: "If all the other kids were jumping off a bridge, would you jump too?"
Of course, this is not a question meant to invite an answer–it is intended to interrupt an unreasonable request with a kind of logic that evades most children. Because, what Mom is missing in her grown-up rationale is this: YES, we would most likely jump off a bridge if everyone else was doing it. That's just how human nature is. Whether it's a good idea or not matters far less than the community around us and the choices they are making. And adults are equally likely to jump when they see their peers jumping.
A friend told me recently her "no you may not" comeback which seems a bit more to the point and leaves no loopholes: "Because I'm the mother and this isn't a democracy." But I digress.
In 1999, when a handful of young aspiring novelists decided to commit the month of November to a novel-writing marathon, they translated this age-old adage of jump-when-others-are-jumping to: write-when-others-are-writing so effectively that it has snowballed into a well known movement: National Novel Writing Month. November is around the corner, and if you write or think about writing, chances are good you've been considering participating in NaNoWriMo or NaPoWriMo. I've been considering both this year and appreciating the energetic boost I get just imagining writers and poets all over the world committing to their craft and their practice on this shared adventure.
As I read some tips for preparing for NaNoWriMo from Brian A. Klems over at Writer's Digest and some interesting insights from writing coach Marla Beck about three reasons NOT to NaNoWriMo, I started to wonder if there could be some third option for writers who want to ride the energy wave of November but will set themselves up for failure to expect a novel draft or a poetry chapbook on the other side. Maybe this would be the equivalent to skipping over the bridge, or standing next to the bridge and studying jumping techniques, or, jumping on a trampoline instead.
If you're feeling totally in sync with what all the other poets or writers are doing in November, fabulous! And if you're not, I invite you to set your own expectations for what would make November a writing month to remember by your standards. What if you were to make your own NaProWriMo (National Promise to Write Month) commitment to yourself? One that is aspirational and yet also within reach.
I've been writing so much for clients and sleeping so little as it is that my hands and arms are arthritic, painful and slow. My son is in a growth spurt and waking most nights for a 3 a.m. meal, my dying dog needs help outside during the night. I know that at most, right now, I have an hour that is just for me every day. With this in mind, I've made my NaProWriMo declaration to myself:
I will write my own writing (not a blog post, not client work, nothing but what I am moved to write, for my own pleasure) for at least one hour every day in the month of November, even if I have to wake up in the middle of the night to do it. Period.
Yes, Mom, I'm jumping off the bridge because everyone else is doing it. And, because moving forward in good company is one of the most efficient and enjoyable ways I know to meet my own goals. Plus, I'm the mom now, and this is not a democracy.
How will you align yourself with all the great forward writing motion that this month has to offer in ways that are authentic to who you are, what you want to accomplish, and the margins you can realistically afford to create for your writing? I'd love to hear about your plans here; feel free to leave a comment to share what you're expecting this November.
