Revelations From An Unexpected NaNoWriMo Experience
How the novel-writing month reawakened my passion for storytelling
On November 29, 2020, I passed the 50K mark and officially won NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). I still remember how it felt to update my word count that day. No fanfares, no surprise party at my house. Just the silent glow of my screen as I stared at the number.
This wasn’t a place I ever thought I’d get to. Rewind exactly a month to Oct. 29, and I was still thinking about what to write. All I knew was I had to do something interesting (and maybe impossible) to break up the monotony of my days, or else go crazy.
My plan was simply to write something every day (specifically a 1,667-word something) and use the NaNo community as external motivation. I figured I could finally embark on some of the short story and novel ideas I’d been putting off for the past few months. I would still be busy with freelance work, though, so I kept my expectations low.
But then something amazing happened. Every week of November came with a revelation — some small, some breathtaking. I experienced firsthand how empowering writing can be. I had fun first drafting, where I thought I would feel pain (though there was some of that, too). I wrote enough that I ran up against my limitations, both real and imagined, and pushed past many of them. I realized what it is to pour my heart into a work of fiction. For the first time, writing brought me to tears, something only reading could do up until that point.
I’m immensely proud of what I wrote — clumsy as it is — in those feverish 30 days. The process uncovered dreams I’d buried long ago. But this time, I have a plan to make sure they never die again.
Being Intentional About My Writing
Writing so much so regularly during NaNo exposed some key gaps in creative writing knowledge I never knew I had. So starting in late December last year, I began a creative writing specialization on Coursera, where I’ve learned and tried my hand at many techniques and characteristics of successful storytelling. Some of these lessons are merely confirmations of what I’ve observed in good books, while others are mini revelations. I’ve always written for fun, but being intentional about my writing has given it new life, new meaning.
NaNo was the first time I ever prioritized my creative pursuits over work. I intentionally carved out time every day to achieve my daily word count goal, and this made the writing feel all the more important. Like maybe I could really do this for a living.
Seeing the pandemic cut far too many lives too short, I realize that life is too fleeting to put off doing what makes me happy. Before NaNo, I had always put off writing a novel until I wrote a short story, which I put off until I could find more job security. Now I no longer have the patience for such excuses.
Journaling
For NaNo I improvised an aesthetically pleasing journal to record my daily writing thoughts. I made it as inviting as possible, hoping it would compel me to write and thus fill in the blanks. (I wouldn’t be able to stand empty columns.)
I kept up the journal after NaNo, as I finished up my novel-length project and tackled new endeavors. It’s now a bullet notebook that doubles as a writing log and gratitude journal. The latter I added as a way to proactively look after my mental health. So far, it’s helping. Both journaling activities force me to think more positively and serve as proof of progress (both writing and personal) that I can look back on later. My favorite part of the journal is the section where I jot down random ideas, quotes, and observations because it deliberately leaves room for spontaneity in these mind-numbingly monotonous times.
Renewed Purpose
My intensive foray into creative writing made me rethink my priorities. If you asked what my writing goals were before NaNo, I would have said: 1) get more freelance clients and jobs, 2) build my overall brand, and 3) find work that inspires or makes me proud.
That last goal, at least, is still true. Having done NaNo, and experienced the full spectrum of feelings associated with creating stories from nothing but my own imagination (and judicious research), I feel the need to rethink #1 and #2. I still want to freelance and build my brand, but now I approach those things with renewed purpose.
I don’t want to freelance just because other options are limited. I want to freelance because it will give me the opportunity to learn and tell stories that resonate with people. Because freelancing is a way to gain interpersonal and life experience I still sorely need if I want to write novels.
Writing my own stories also prompted me to reflect more deeply on the ones I read. In addition to reading for pleasure, I’ve begun approaching the works of other writers with the purpose of dissecting what makes them so compelling. Then I apply theory to practice and allow my findings to improve my own storytelling.
So many (well-intentioned) people give great writing advice, but consuming too much of it can cause us to lose sight of what we truly want for ourselves. Prior to NaNo, this is what happened to me. But now I understand myself better. I’m a better judge of what advice will work for me, and what won’t.
If you read this story and learn something from it — wonderful. But if not, that’s fine, too. I think we have to be okay with engaging with something that might not always give us something in return. In many ways, that’s the writing process. We have to be okay with writing things that will be edited out later.
What I do hope is that you go after your own writing goals with as much openness to the experience as possible. I hope what you discover along the way makes you a more impassioned writer and — most importantly — a happier person.
