NaNoWriMo OR The End of All Things

Today, my friend (yes, Renee, we’re still friends) blogged about NaNoWriMo and whether it was a good thing or bad thing. Rather than repeating what she said, go read her post.

*hums jeopardy theme while clicking through pictures of Katherine Monneig*

Oh, haha, welcome back. Her? That’s Shane. You know, from L Word?


Fuck it.

I’ve never participated in NaNoWriMo. Never had a desire to for a few reasons:

1) It’s annoying as hell to type NaNoWriMo with all those alternating capital and lower case letter. My pinky gets cramped every time.

2) Word counts mean nothing to me. I can spend all night writing an 800 word flash fiction piece and be just as happy as those clowns who brag on twitter that they wrote 3k words in 45 minutes. Good for them. It’s shit. Trust me. The first draft of anything is putrid.

3) And here I’m going to reiterate something Renee said only to drive the point home – NaNo indirectly encourages people who have no calling to be a writer to write 50k words of shit, then haul ass over to Lulu or Createspace or whatever and publish that piece of garbage because they want to be the next E.L. James.

But that doesn’t mean I think I CAN’T put out 50k words of hell knows what in a month. I’ve done it before. In fact, the two books I’ve written (both still in draft one form because HOLY GOD are they shit) were on paper in less than a month each. But I did that almost 4 years ago back when OFW was a group on Goodreads. I’d just penned the first one that I titled Sacrifical Lamb Cake and loved the process of it so much, I decided to learn more.

That’s when writing became difficult and the focus to just sit down and write fizzled.

Learning about the craft of writing is important for anyone wishing to make writing a career, but it also fuels that internal editor that whispers doubt and endless revision in your ear.

NaNoWriMo, for me, will be about seeing if I can put a tight little noose around said editor’s neck for 30 days and bang out something worth editing, revising, and maybe, one day, publishing.

OR – it’ll be the end of all things and I’ll snap, go on a seven state killing spree, and later the police will find me naked and bloodied in an alley, rocking back and forth, still trying to finish my outline on a brick wall using the blood of my victims as ink.

Only one way to find out.


Rantlet and Update

First the rant, because I know that’s why you all came here. Everyone loves drama.

Pretty recently, author Christopher Moore made a statement on his facebook account that he was told to “Just write books” and to spare his readers his political opinion because, as a writer he shouldn’t have one.

Immediately following that event, Chris started a second twitter account which he uses strictly as a political outlet. If you’re curious, his handle is @NOX10US. Don’t go over there just to act like a douchebag, though, k? Then, my good friend and fellow OFW-er, Renee, blogged her thoughts on the whole thing here.

I decided to give myself some thinking time before I voiced my thoughts, via blog, on the matter. Here’s what I came up with.

Those of you who claim that writers should just “shut up and write” must not read very much.

No, I’m serious. Or if you do, you couldn’t possibly comprehend that what you are reading are ideas come to fruition. That means, the writer had a thought, then voiced that thought via fiction. Writers are sneaky devils. We will lace whatever the fuck we want between the lines of that novel you’re enjoying so much, including a political jab or two. Just because we make the same declaration, be it political, sociological, or just the fact that we fucking love bacon, by a vehicle other than fiction it doesn’t make it any less the same.

As readers, if you want to have that personal connection with your favorite author, then you’re going to have to make room for the personal shit like politics and social issues. If you just want another book, then log off Twitter, and sit back and wait for your email from Barnes & Noble saying that your preordered copy is on the way. It’s that simple. We can’t force you to sit and listen to everything we have to say – and believe we’d fucking love to – just as you can’t force that author to shut up. Not only is it rude, it’s impossible.

So grow up, take a step back, and think about what you’re saying before you go polluting the internet with your whiny bullshit. If you don’t “follow” me because of it, cool. My feelings won’t get hurt. Same if you don’t read my stories. Sure, I’d like you to. What writer doesn’t? It’s why we do it. For us, and for you guys. But chances are if you don’t like my style when it comes to something as dumb as a 140 character tweet, then you probably aren’t going to like my fiction style, either.

And scene.

Now for the update.

I am at the point in my writing career that I’ve had to choose between a moderate social life and committing more time to the two projects I’m knee deep in and extremely excited about. Guess which won. A real desk was purchased.

I have friends who have assumed I died of some strange disease or got myself shot over saying the wrong thing to the wrong person with the wrong inflection. For all intents and purposes, yes, I died. No need for a funeral. Just buy a caramel macchiato in my name and drink it with all the orgasmic joy you can muster.

That’s all I have for today. No, I’m not going to talk about my super exciting projects for the same reason I never tell people what I wish for on my birthday. It’s just bad luck. I will, however, be reading an excerpt at the “Wordier Than Thou” event in St. Petersburg at L Train Bar on September 27th. If you live in the area, I recommend attending. Not just for me, but for the other talented writers that’ll be there sharing their work. Beer and fiction. Doesn’t get better.