November is a busy month. It's Movember, for those of us with the ability/desire to grow ridiculous facial hair. It's Thanksgiving for our American friends (and also for us lucky few who have American friends over here that're willing to cook for us). It's my birthday month. It's the commencement of late night shopping and switch-on of Christmas lights and making mince pies and getting pestered about whether you've started your shopping yet. And, of course, it's NaNoWriMo.
This is my sixth year doing Nano. For six years in a row I've given up my November to write a novel.
Okay, that's not entirely true. For a start, I don't really give up that much. I'm supposed to be writing every day anyway, so really it shouldn't be that tough on me to actually, y'know, stick to a schedule. That said, writing every day is tough, even if you're used to it, and anyone who says otherwise is either lying or delusional, or just one of those insufferable people who breeze through everything they do.
The other thing is... 50,000 words is one heck of an achievement, but is it a novel?
I've noticed they've changed the Nano website so it no longer infers that your 50k November-words should be one self-contained novel, but rather encourages you to work on more than one short project, or add your November word count to an existing work in progress. Which, I have to say, is probably sensible. There're only a limited number of genres where a 50k novel is the norm, especially if you're looking at publication. And trying to cram a novel into too short (or too long) a word count is never likely to work.
Something else I noticed from the site is some interesting statistics. I can't find the direct link to the page now (typical) but, for example, the most successful part of the world in terms of total word count and also average word count per participant is... Germany. Huh.
Less surprising on the stats page is that 62% of the worldwide participants this year are Nanoing for the first time. And I think that may be indicative of an inherent problem with Nano - it's difficult, and it's not for everyone. People coming to it for the first time, especially if they're not used to writing regularly, might well find it tough, get discouraged, and drop out. For every person who crosses the 50k finish line, I'd bet there's at least one other who gets so discouraged they decide the writing thing just isn't for them.
As a comparison: There's a walking competition on the Island here, called the Parish Walk. It's a circuit around the Island, totalling 85 miles, that passes through each parish. The circuit has to be completed in 24 hours. From my point of view (sitting on my spreading behind in a comfy, comfy chair) this sounds a lot like madness. 85 miles? A whole day of walking? Over some of the most up-and-downy roads we've got on the Island? Madness.
Yet people do it. A whole bunch of people. There're three people in my office alone who've completed it, and one fella who's come in first on four separate years. I know another woman who did two laps of the course, one after the other--170 miles in 48 hours.
And a startling percentage of the population have taken part at least once. Even me.
One reason why I reckon it's so popular is that finishing the whole 85 miles is not the be-all and end-all of it. There are checkpoints in each parish, and you can pick your own goal--the full monty, the half-monty, or just the first checkpoint if you fancy a five mile stroll. People will walk to beat their previous times, or to go that one parish farther. (Also, it's a massive social event, with spectators coming out of their houses to watch and give you biscuits, and one year there was a beer stall at the top of the steepest slope, but I digress.)
So, my point, if point indeed I have, is that you've got to set your own goals, and you can't look at what everyone else is doing. Yes, some bugger is always going to come in far ahead of everyone else. But they're also the bugger who's out training every evening while I'm at home watching Masterchef. We can't all "win"... unless we define our own parameters of what winning is, and why we want to get there.
Don't get me wrong. I love NaNoWriMo. Like I say, this is my sixth year of participation, resulting in five completed novels and one large messy chunk of rubbish that makes me wince every time I look at it, and I'll hopefully be right here again next year. But, really, it's a pain, isn't it? I'm knackered, my house is a mess, I'm sick of looking at this stupid story, and I had to write on my birthday (I know, diddums). On the plus side, I've got ninety percent of a book, which is more than I had on 1st November.
So... sorry, this seems to be another blog post where I just complain without making any kind of solid point. Big hugs and congratulations to everyone who's taken part in Nano this year--even if you didn't "win", you still won, and don't let a website tell you differently.
Also, it's December on Sunday so we're officially in the run up to Christmas. Blimey, that snuck up on us, didn't it?
