To NaNoWriMo or Not To NaNoWriMo

The season of NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) is almost upon us. What is NaNoWriMo? It’s a non-profit organization that sets up an annual challenge where starting November 1, participants begin working towards the goal of writing a 50,000-word novel by 11:59 PM on November 30. And sadly, I will not be throwing my gauntlet into the ring.

I took part last year and looked forward to it every night – to get back to the story that was coming to life, film-like, on the computer screen in front of me. I explored the life of three children, growing up in post-Hiroshima Japan, one of the most realist stories I’ve written in quite a while. I found myself caring about these characters more and more, found myself wanting to hear their voices, their fears, to take part in their adventures rather then venture out into the greater world of Ann Arbor and classes and homework.

As senior year in the English and Creative Writing departments draws its cloak over me, I find myself writing so much already that I couldn’t possibly work on a 50,000-word novel right now. I admire all college-age Nano-ers who can find the balance between classes and this writing challenge. But, if Nano-ing is not in your near future, do not fret. It can often be a very brave thing to know your limits and know when to say ‘no.’ The good thing about Nano is that it’s like an annual holiday. It comes every year. If you’re not participating this year, then next year perhaps! No one even has to know if you participate or not. It’s like a secret with yourself. (Though, there is an incredible online community of Nano-ers who are available for support, for ideas, for writing gatherings, etc, for those who enjoy that kind of groupie-ness.)

There has been recent backlash from ignoramuses who think that NaNoWriMo is meant for people to write 50,000 word first-drafts and send it to agents on Dec. 1. This is by no means the purpose of NaNoWriMo. It’s a challenge, a chance to push yourself to write the story that has been cooped in your head, no matter how bad or hyperbolic or boring or flouncy or cheesy or cliche or wonderful the writing. It’s a chance for you to get in touch with your creativity stores, to think through your own beliefs and opinions about society, and project them onto characters who are forced to make decisions and heck, maybe even fight a few ninjas or two. I can’t imagine criticizing anything that encourages storytelling. No matter if you have written a Pulitzer or if you write car manuals, everyone deserves the chance to participate in this challenge.

If you’re lucky, you’ll walk away from NaNo with a “The End” as your words numbered 49,999 and 50,000. But, don’t think of this as “your end.” This is just a draft. The real writing, the revision, hasn’t even begun. And if you want, it doesn’t have to begin. You can write it and on December 1, come out from your writing cave and return to normal life. But, if you believe in your novel, you can make it stronger and keep working on it. To quote Da Vinci, “art is never finished, only abandoned.” But, something abandoned, doesn’t have to stay abandoned. Nor does it only have to be worked on during the month of November. That means that my story, about the three Japanese children, need not fear! I plan to pick it up again and continue the adventuring…just maybe after college settles down.

From one Nano-er to the next, I give this bit of advice to all of you brave writers who I will be living vicariously through this November:

Don’t delete anything. Even if you can’t stand to look at it, just highlight it in black and keep writing. (It creates this cool “blackout poetry” feel to your piece.)

If possible, log in the words while you have the time.  Try and get ahead in the first few days, which will give you flexibility as life and reality catches up to you later on in November.

-Make sure to give yourself breaks. Get up, take a walk, go to a museum, do yoga, paint your toenails, learn how to do headstands. Shake up your brainwaves so the ideas have room to breathe.

-Back up your work. Press Save a lot, become best friends with flash drives. Also, you can save to that whimsical of all things, the all-hailed Cloud.

Take risks. No one else has to see this writing if you don’t want them to. Be daring. Be silly. Add a dragon or two. Write scandalously. Mix the two and include the most scandalous of dragons.

Let yourself be surprised. 

To all my friends who are Nano-ing this year, I wave flags of encouragement and wish you happy writing and delicious snacks that don’t sticky up your fingers so much that prevent you from typing and I hope that you find yourself on the other side of the month, pleasantly surprised with the strength and courage and productivity that you achieved in just 30 autumnal days.

Write on, folks, write on!

Thoughts From Places: Passions, January Edition

So lately I’ve been thinking.

Now, I know as well as anyone how dangerous that can be, so just stay with me here.

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about my future (like, with jetpacks), and what I want that to look like. Now, I haven’t come up with any definite conclusions, but I do have a few basic requirements:

  1. I have a job. It sucks, but I can’t do anything in this world (like, say, live in an apartment) without money, so I have to have a job.

  2. This job has to be something I enjoy. I can’t be waking up every day, hating my own guts because I have to drag myself to the same old crummy job every week.

That’s it. Since practically my kindergarten days, these two things are all I’ve wanted for my life. But the funny thing about life is that it changes…like, a lot.

I used to think that if I ended up working in an office it would be the death of me and all I consider fun and exciting, but now I’m (slowly) acclimating to the idea of working in an office…as long as it’s an office working on something I enjoy as well.

I also used to think that I’d become an actress, but that dream is almost all but gone. Would I go back to the stage if offered? In a heartbeat. But am I at college just waiting for my big break on Broadway? Not so much.

But recently, I’ve been coming to a different conclusion. I love to write, in case you haven’t noticed the weeks and weeks and weeks of columns I’ve written, and I decided to become an English major so that I can get a degree in something I love so I can get a job in something I love. That fulfills both of my above requirements. I thought becoming an author would make me just as happy as if I were acting on stage.

But I love writing for this blog too. I love writing about art, something that I’m really passionate about (see above potential jobs), and I love getting to have deep, meaningful conversations with other people who love art just as much as I do. And although they don’t make much, being a cultural/pop culture journalist is sounding really, really cool to me as a junior looking at a job market I’ll soon be entering.

I’m not exactly sure what I’m trying to get at, and I know this only loosely coincides with my task of writing about art once a week, but I guess I’d say that finding passions is not something that automatically happens. I didn’t wake up one day knowing I was going to get a job at arts, ink and love it more than any other job I’ve ever had. Passion is a process, which is something I think most people don’t understand. Art is a passion, but it’s also a process.

So I guess I’m saying find your passion. But don’t give up if it takes longer than you expect it to, because all passions are different. And don’t reject something when you haven’t tried it. Did I want this job when I applied for it? Yes. Did I think I was going to like it so much that I’d want to turn it into a career goal? Not a chance. But am I glad I did it?

I think you can answer that for yourself.

A List of Writing Mediums

Some scientific research concluded that writing in cursive better encodes information into your brain. This is due to the number of neurons that are fired with pen-strokes, as a wide variety of hand movements are required. Cursory writing accomplishes this goal more effectively than other forms of writing. Printing by hand is the next most optimal means to encoding thoughts. Typing fires the least neurons, so this is the least effective for memory. It is, however, the fastest, and also rather unavoidable in today’s world. After spending so much time in front of a screen, we get caught in a rut of typing and information cascades.

In the age of information overload, reductionism is a coping mechanism. Lists are a means of reductionism. So to combat the bulk of information you are overloaded with on daily basis, I’m going to present a list. This list will be a compilation of different writing mediums you could explore–both on and off the screen. Experimenting with new mediums may change the way we remember and relate information. And that’s important. We could generate new thoughts, just be placing them on a different surface.

So here are 35 new mediums to try:

1. Plastic milk jugs

2. Dried leaves

3. Whiteboards

4. Blackboards

5. Corkboards

6. Rocks of varying shapes and sizes

7. Wax paper

8. Your body

9. Somebody else’s body, with verbal consent

10. Napkins

11. Money, but you didn’t get the idea from me

12. Apples

13. Cardboard

14. Glass panels

15. Rubber erasers, for the irony

16. Paper plates

17. Tin foil

18. Candy wrappers

19. Bricks

20. Brick walls

21. Drywall

22. Tabletops

23. Table bottoms; watch out for gum

24. Table legs

25. Seashells

26. Turtle shells

27. On computer screens

28. On the sides of pencils

29. Watermelons

30. 2×4 boards

31. Dead skin

32. Chicken bones

33. Jeans

34. Toilet paper

35. Your bed sheets

This list is not conclusive. Feel free to add more for yourself. The process of writing on different mediums, even if the words/ideas do not change, may make you think about the writing in a different way. This divergent thinking may help you overcome mental road blocks. It is a worthwhile activity, I think. So explore. Let your pen roam wild. Bleed ink on inappropriate places. You’ll never know what you may find.

That Time of the Year

There is something about the sun going down so early – around this time of the year – that makes all the pressures of unfinished assignments all the more feverish. This eventuality of shorter days never crosses my mind until I finally notice that I have already fallen into a tired and somber attitude.
How easy it is to be ignorantly believing that everything is together and then quickly disintegrating into blah blah attitudes that bear no weight to anything, and in that absence of anything concrete, how disparate everything can be should you not tie each task, emotion, or thought with something that has weight and a semblance of togetherness.
By no means am I saying I sit with hopeless emptiness on my couch in my apartment as I write this blog post. No, this isn’t meant to sound depressing at all. The only reason why I remain happy is because I have to be. Also, listening to Feist’s Mushaboom helps a lot, but not really at the same time. Sometimes, if the moment is just not right, a song as happy as that makes me more tired and sad than I was before.
Another thing that helps, is writing, as much as I can. And when I am not typing or writing longhand on sheets of paper that I find strewn across my desk or in my little black notebook, I am thinking about writing. However, more broadly speaking, I keep thinking about English as an art form.
I guess what I am trying to say, is that keeping my mind occupied is a greater force to fend off the lulls of energy during this time of the year in comparison to delusional fantasies of happiness that are brought on by listening to Mushaboom.
In fear of this article becoming needlessly and annoyingly pretentious, because I am sincerely lacking material today for this blog post, I will cut this article short. I would rather not blab on about nonsense. For God’s sake, parts of this post are already nonsense.
Maybe I should just switch up my song choice, because I can’t be thinking about writing all the time, I got other stuff on my mind too.
Maybe I will listen to the It Ain’t Me Baby or some song by Haim or maybe…oh oh! I got it! Changes by Bowie.

Why I’m an English Major

In terms of my blog, this will probably be my shortest post to date (and possibly ever). While my Wednesdays are usually free, I have a paper due tonight that I’m very concerned about.

And I’m not concerned because I haven’t started or I don’t know what I’m writing – I’m concerned because this topic is important to me and I don’t want to screw it up. While I have written papers like this before, this is the first time in a while where this has happened to me. Last night I got to page 6 of my assigned 4 page essay – I have a lot to say about this particular poem.

Thankfully my professor said it’s okay if you go over the page count – while it gives him more to read, he says he’ll enjoy it if you’re “in the zone.” And what a zone I’m in.

I don’t know why, but doing justice to this beautiful, tragic poem is important to me. Written by W. B. Yeats, “No Second Troy” is a 10 line poem, yet its complexity compels me to tell its story, about this woman that Yeats believes is Helen of Troy reincarnated. I feel as though if I don’t write this paper to the best of my ability, I will let Yeats down. He gave me this wonderful work of art for me to mess with, to twist and to mold into an argument about why anyone should care about a 10 line poem, and I have to return the favor and write that argument in an eloquent and beautiful way.

This is why I’m an English major. It’s not that I like to read, it’s not that I like to write. It’s not that my mind automatically turns to analysis of character and syntax when I read a work such as this one. It’s the joy I get when I can finally tease apart the complexities of a piece and then reconstruct it into my own argument. Even though the poem was Yeats’, the argument is mine. And that joy is something I might have lost, writing paper after paper. Sure, I don’t often come across a subject I’m this passionate about. But as I write more papers than I ever have this year, I hope that I inject that same amount of passion into every one of them – and that my teacher can see that passion I have.

 

“No Second Troy”

from The Green Helmet and Other Poems, 1912

 

Why should I blame her that she filled my days

With misery, or that she would of late

Have taught to ignorant men most violent ways,

Or hurled the little streets upon the great.

Had they but courage equal to desire?

What could have made her peaceful with a mind

That nobleness made simple as a fire,

With beauty like a tightened bow, a kind

That is not natural in an age like this,

Being high and solitary and most stern?

Why, what could she have done, being what she is?

Was there another Troy for her to burn?

Go Away, I’m Trying To Write Here

I don’t think I’ve encountered anything more frustrating than writer’s block. I mean, it’s called writer’s block for a reason. But for me, writer’s block is so much more than not being able to write.

You see, I don’t get normal writer’s block. It’s not like I just sit in front of a computer for an hour trying to think of the next thing Matt from Story C would say to his best friend John. If it were that simple, I would have done NaNoWriMo every year and just put out crappy stories that no one really cares about because they’re so horrible. I mean, that is what NaNoWriMo is about.

For me, writer’s block is so much more personal. I don’t think this applies to most people because I don’t think most writers approach their writing like I do (but I could be wrong). You see, when I get writer’s block, it’s not usually about not being able to write. I’m always able to write. I’m always able to put words on a page and read them and make them sound grammatically correct. But being able to put them down well, being able to enchant people with just words on a page, and being able to say yes I made this and be proud of it terrifies me.

Because for me, writing isn’t just something I enjoy. Sure, it may have started out that way, but now that I’m in 323, now that I’m telling people I’m going to be a CW Concentrator (different than a major people), I feel the pressure not only to put out work but put out work that says I deserve to be a writer. If I don’t put out that work, I feel judged, vulnerable, like I’m just one baby step behind everyone else, like I should have learned how to use “sophisticated” instead of “fancy” already.

But most importantly, the reason why writer’s block is so frustrating, why I just want to scream and pound on the walls and rip ideas straight from my head is something so simple that most people probably don’t even realize it. I hate writer’s block because it blocks my primary form of creative expression. I don’t sing, I don’t have great fashion sense, I can’t dance to save my life, but writing, writing is mine. And when I’m so scared that I can’t even do that, can’t put my heart on a page and let the blood run down into ink, I’m angry.

But you know, that’s why I write for this blog. That’s why I’m taking three ULWR, why I push myself to take classes that I know are gonna be hard. This Shakespeare class isn’t kicking my butt for nothing. And every time I make a victory, get my grade back and get comments on it that say good job, the frustration is totally worth it.

Because for me, writer’s block pushes me to be better. And in return, I am better.

(this post brought to you by Jeannie’s anxiety over not posting on Wednesday)

(also maybe that paper on Yeats that’s due next week)

(probably more the Yeats paper)