Guest Post: Kay Keppler – What about March?

Kay agreed to visit my blog and give a different perspective on NaNoWriMo…

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I love the idea of NaNoWriMo, I really do. I mean, what writer wouldn't? I love the idea that hundreds of thousands of novelists get together at exactly the same time every year and write an entire freaking book. This is awesome. I would love to gear up, hunker down, imbibe some serious joe, and get a jump on the next opus. I'd love to kvetch and compare with my friends and fellow co-writers at the end of the day, or even the hour, about what we got done since the last time we checked in and kvetched.

I mean, doesn't that sound like fun?

Yeah, in somebody else's universe. NaNoWriMo is so not happening. Who are we kidding? NaNoWriMo is in November. This is the worst timing of the entire year. People are squashed by end-of-the-year craziness. For the self-employed, like me, bills are due. Projects are due. Tax junk has to be pulled together. Those insane health account use-it-or-lose-it thingies have to be spent.

And let's not forget the elephant in the room here—Thanksgiving. I travel for it, a party I wouldn't miss for the world. Two days traveling cross country and back, plus the event, takes six days out of the month. And that's not counting the pre-travel day to eke out the last deadline, pack, pay bills, and water the plants, and a day of jetlag after to lie comatose on the sofa and recover from post-Thanksgiving airport fever.

So 50,000 words not in 30 days, but 22 days, right off the bat. Plus the bills, projects, taxes, health account thingies, and…holiday cards. Shopping and travel plans for the next giant holiday. I just can't do it all and write 50,000 words, too. I'd fail at everything. So not the feeling we're going for during the holidays.

I'm sure when Chris Baty and his 20 friends sat around in 1999, they all said, "hey! We've got time off! Thanksgiving and Veterans Day coming up! I know! Let's write a book!" It must have sounded like a great idea at the time. Twenty-one participants, six that got to 50,000 words, all good. By 2010, 200,500 people participated in NaNoWriMo, and 37,500 of them got to 50,000 words.

I wonder, though, if any of those 200,500 writers got any turkey? Or if they all sat in cold garrets and pounded on their keyboards. I suppose the more writers participate in NaNoWriMo, the more the turkeys of the world rejoice. If 200,500 people are pounding on keyboards and they aren't eating turkey, well, happy days on the poultry farm.

This got me to thinking. Can America have both turkey and NaNoWriMo? I considered writing to Chris Baty. At first I thought NaNoWriMo could be moved to a month that is short of holidays. I like March. Not much happens in March. You could lose a day or even two around St. Patrick's Day, depending on how Irish you feel, but how hard can a person party around "National Chocolate-Covered Raisin Day" or "Extraterrestrial Abductions Day"? In March you can also celebrate "I Am in Control Day," so you'd be sure to get that book done. Plus, NaMaWriMo has a ring to it.

But then I thought, why should Chris have to move his holiday? If we didn't have Thanksgiving in there, November would be a great time to write a book. Fall is a time to clear one's head before the new year begins. A time to Prepare. Focus. A time to write.

And that settled it. I'm writing to Washington. I know Congress will listen to me. And I know they'll all agree that Thanksgiving is in the wrong month. We've got to move it to March.

And then, NaNoWriMo people, I'm so with you.

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Betting on Hope

When her father loses the family's Nevada ranch in a poker game, Hope McNaughton decides to win it back—from New Jersey Mafia boss Big Julie Saladino. She hasn't played cards in a while. But she's got time…thirty days. Thirty days before they have to move out or swim with the fishes.

Hope calls on her honorary uncles—who are totally legit, honestly—to sharpen her game. Poker champion Tanner Wingate—whose shady past is all behind him, really (except when the cops come calling)—wants to pull her out of that deep water and into his life.

When she and Tanner both wind up in the Big Game with Big Julie, only one of them can win. And whoever walks away with the pot will be the biggest loser.

But Tanner knows that the game's not really over until the fat lady sings, and all they need is a fake black ops mission to discover that love's not such a gamble, after all.