Now, I honestly didn't realise it'd been as much as ten years. I've just had my head down, typity-typing away, and when I look up from my monitor, blinking in the daylight, apparently a decade has passed. If I complete the Nano challenge this year, that'll be ten consecutive wins, and a total of half a million words written.
Looks kinda nice when it's set down like that. Excuse me while I bask for a moment.
So anyway, I guess maybe I can describe myself as a Nano veteran now? I've put in the time and I've put in the work, and I reckon I've got a handle on the event. I've participated in the November events and also several Camp NaNoWriMos and a couple of Script Frenzies, back when those were still a thing.
(I set all this out because I still feel like, hey, who the hell am I to offer advice? With so many other knowledgeable people out there on the web, why should I add my shouty opinions to the void?)
For what it's worth, here is what I've learned from a decade of Nanoing.
1. IT'S NOT FOR EVERYONE
Good Lord, is it not for everyone. Personally I love Nano. It suits me down to the ground. I love the microdeadline of writing 1,667 words a day, I love the freedom it gives me to write fast and loose, and I love the website with its updatable word count / bar graphs. I love the feeling of progress you get from watching your stats creep up. I love stats.
BUT it's not for everyone. Some people get the heebie-jeebies at the idea of writing like that. Who wants the stress of having to hit a word count every day? How can you cope without editing and fixing on the go? Who needs the peer pressure of your writing buddies judging you for your lack of progress? (They say they don't but I know the truth)
If your writing style doesn't fit the Nano model, that's fine. That's more than fine. You know who I'm jealous of? People who binge-write. Like, they sit down at the weekend and churn out five thousand words. How is that even possible? 1,667 words, arbitrary or not, seems to be my upper limit for productivity. If I try to blast through that and keep putting words down, my attention goes, my enthusiasm wanes, and my characters end up reading aloud from the dictionary just to keep the word count flowing.
My style is slow and steady. I'm happy with that. Nano fits me well. Other people have different styles, which Nano doesn't necessarily cater to. That's also fine. Don't try and force what doesn't work for you.
2. NANOWRIMO CAN MAKE YOU A BETTER WRITER
I am a better writer than I was ten years ago. I think that's fair to say. I'm more confident, I have a better working attitude, and I know how to use the word ameliorate.
Was this all down to Nano? Noooooo. Mostly I'd say it's thanks to ten years of more-or-less constant writing, a shedload of invaluable guidance from my various writing groups and beta readers, some professional intervention, and people hitting me with shoes to reinforce advice (I stand firm on certain points, like double-spacing after full stops, and no amount of shoes shall change my mind).
But Nano helped, for sure. It taught me I can write fast (when I need to), and I can write to a deadline (when I want to). It taught me that a paragraph of terrible writing is better than a paragraph that exists only in your head. It taught me, indirectly, the value of editing, because the nine first drafts I've churned out during past Novembers have been godawful. It taught me I am NOT a pantser, like I'd always thought... at least not a good one. And that leads me onto my next point:
3. IT'S OKAY TO QUIT
One of the most difficult things to admit is that a course of action isn't working for you. It could be that, like me, you consider yourself a hardcore pantser - planning is for the weak! Structure grows organically! And again, sure, if this works for you, more power to you.
Turns out, I can't structure for peanuts.
My Nano novels (and by extension the rest of my writing, because if the model works for November why not extend it to the rest of the year, right?) are horrible blobby messy lumps. They tend to start off alright, with two or three decent chapters, before descending into OH GOD WHAT HAPPENS NEXT. Without a plan, I would grab onto the first reasonable plot point that came to mind and write towards it. Nano happens so fast that there's no time to sit back and think. You're constantly scrabbling for plot. Or at least I am.
Also turns out, structure is hella-difficult to insert after the fact. It's like building a monster out of the squishy bits first then trying to cram a skeleton into it. Difficulty, frustrating, and unpleasant. Even if you succeed, chances are you're going to end up with something that looks, ehhhh, not quite like you'd hoped.
Took me ten years to learn this.
So, my point is, it's okay to change your ways. If pantsing isn't working, stop and make a plan. If you're bogged down in planning, try pantsing for a while.
And if you're really, really not enjoying the process... stop.
No one's forcing you to Nano. No one will judge you if you don't make that 50K in a month (not even me). Like the gambling adverts say: When the fun stops, stop. Come back to it at your own pace. The last thing you want to do is ruin your work by carrying on long after you stop enjoying it.
4. TAKING PART IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN WINNING
I've said this before, but we don't give enough kudos to participation. Everyone who signs up to Nano is awesome. Everyone who puts a handful of words onto paper (or screen) during November is awesome. Everyone who plugs on to the end and makes their fifty thousand is awesome. Everyone deserves cookies and praise.
So, if you're enjoying Nano, high five. If you're struggling bravely onwards through Nano, KEEP GOING, YOU GOT THIS BRAH. If you're seriously not enjoying it in the slightest and you think it might put you off writing forever... quit.
Whatever you're doing, however you're doing it, good luck to you all. Keep writing... at the pace that works for you.
