Well, NaNoWriMo is over. I’m not quite sure how to feel about that. On the one hand, I feel like a terrible failure. On the other hand, I now have a reliable idea of the amount of words I can manage to squeeze out of myself per month at an undisciplined level of skill. The answer is, ~7,700.
This number was discovered by comparing November’s total with my total from 2013 (the last time I tried to do NaNoWriMo). That novel was actually based on a short story I had written for a flash fiction class. I intended it to be a very short book, too. Nevertheless, ~7,650 words was all I could manage to get out of myself, and I didn’t come anywhere near to completing the project. I don’t remember exactly how prepared I was for the 2013 endeavor, but I do remember planning to write about 1,500 words per day–ish.
This month, I had no distractions near what I have had in the past. I was excessively prepared with plot outlines this time, but I knew the novel was a monster. I knew that I was probably sitting on three novels, and that I was not going to finish. I could make further excuses for myself, but the only one that matters is the unreasonably huge expectations of what could be done in a month.
I am a chronic over-estimator. Huge dreams and aesthetic ambitions can serve an artist well. They can bring a work to a higher level and expand the artist in the process. But for me, it has only proved over the years to make my projects unfinishable. In turn, this has made my ideas unsharable with you, my friends, audience, and mentors, defeating the whole purpose of being a writer in the first place.
To paraphrase Seth Godin, I really need to figure out a way to Ship.
Desperate to create a smaller loop of sharing and feedback with you, I researched all the different ways I could offer my work that included these factors:
Part of this is me dying to find and connect with an audience (if you’re reading this when it was published, you’re like, one of two people. In fact, if you’re reading this far into an article about a topic entirely self-reflective and boring as paste, you’re either an Uber-nerd, an Uber-fan, or a freaky-ass stalker. If you’re of the first two, I see you and love you. If you’re a stalker, I can’t stop you from reading or fixating on my shit, but know that it’s less that I see you and more I’m watching you. lol (seriously, though). Of course, if you’re a member of the media digging through old articles to understand my process better, and you’re none of the above, Hi. Welcome to the circus tent. Would you like a cup of tea? Anyways…)
The other part of me is trying to understand myself as a writer. In fact, I have had this problem my whole life. Non-Fic essays I can manage with grace. Weird flash fictions or scenes, I can manage. BUT all my story ideas are sprawling, colorful epics with a massive amount of character development and anthropologic-type details. I have always assumed that such stories were meant to be novels, but when 50,000 words somehow feels too big and too restrictive, something isn’t right.
I have never had the time or respect for my own professional career to iron out this wrinkle in my work…until now. And I suppose today is the day to face it.
I think I may be a Serial writer.
I need a formula, I need boundaries. I need to know when something is “done” so that I can let it go with confidence. I suppose I could apply effort to the skills of average format. Maybe, when I finally get feedback from you, y’all may prefer my stories in a traditional writing style. If so, I’ll pivot and set my skill to mastering that way of writing. I’m here to serve you, after all.
But, something tells me that if you have a little bit of bandwidth for something different, we could all have a really good time. So, I’m gonna put my chips on “something different,” and ship.
I love the relationship among fan groups that hyper-fixate on fictional relationships (known online as “ships”). I love their sororities. I love their episodic fan fiction and their unspoken fantasies. I love Potterheads and Reylos and Heughligans and Janeites. I am, more or less, one of them. I seek to create what many of them wish they had: another wonderful universe to explore with many of the fun attributes of the other ones, but with new landscapes, new languages and customs, and new characters to dream about.
I want to play in this sandbox of worlds with a group of readers. I’m calling to the fictional anthropologists who love Tolkien and Martin and Rowling. Readers who see characters as travel companions through eras and customs that have never existed before. Readers who love beauty and craftsmanship and magic and chivalry and feminine power. I need this in my life.
I need these fellow fictional anthropologists, these…PhDs of period dramas, these Masters of hand sewing and shawl-knitting, these tea-drinking, wand-owning, quartz-in-your-bra, smutty fan-fic writing, ugly-crying, Shakespeare-loving, cosplay-wearing, Rainbow Connection dreamers.
Until we meet, here, I wrote this story for you. And then, have another.
Photo by Thom Milkovic on Unsplash
fictional anthropology Hughligans Janeite NaNoWriMo Potterhead Rainbow Connection Reylo Seth Godin shipping