Post NaNoWriMo report

My original intention was to blog about this in early December. But then I got the call my grandmother was dying, literally as I sat down to start writing. So yeah, this blog post is almost two months over due.

Waaaay back in November, I finally grew some balls and participated in something that I've been interested in for years, but could never bring myself to do. You know, because I lacked the aforementioned balls.

"You finally lost your virginity?"

That activity was NaNoWriMo.

For those of you who don't know what the hell I'm talking about, NaNoWriMo is an acronym for the National Novel Writing Month. It was created by a genius by the name of Chris Baty. He, along with 21 others in the San Francisco area decided to sit down and write a novel in a single month. And despite how crazy that sounds, they did just that. The next year, they decided to do it again, this time in the month of November, because other than nom of turkey during Thanksgiving, there's not much else to do during that time of the year.

"November is nothing without me!"

The rules for NaNoWriMo are fairly simple: you write 50,000 words in the span of the month, starting at 12:00 am on November 1st, and ending at 11:59 pm on November 30th. It can be any theme, any genre, and in any language. Fun, no?

Having had the strange yearning to write for some years now, but nothing to really write about has been a plight I've wrestled with for sometime. But somehow, I had developed the inkling of an idea for a book; apparently my muse decided to stay sober long enough to do her freaking job for once.

My muse.

So with inspiration for a story in my head and the grim determination of a would-be writer, along with some much needed encouragement from a few friends, I set out to play an epic game of chicken with my laptop.

NaNoWriMo was, if anything, a learning experience which presented a number of challenges and obstacles for me to overcome, such as:

1. The need for speed. In order to hit the 50,000 mark by the deadline, I would need to write an average of 1,667 words everyday. Which was a daunting prospect for me considering I'm a notoriously slow writer;even during those rare moments that I know exactly what I want to type, it takes me a few moments shy of eternity to actually get it written up. So you can imagine how slow going it was when I would have to pause and collect my thoughts or even think up a scene...

It doesn't help matters that I technically don't know how to type. I'm a certified chicken pecker; I only use two fingers to write, and my eyes never leave the keyboard.

I'm happy to say that my typing speed doubled over the course of the month; my average was around 500 wph before I started NaNoWriMo. Now, I easily hit 1000 wph without too much effort; during day 11, I managed 1300 words in just 49 minutes, which is the equivalent of the tortoise sprinting ahead and lapping the hare.

"Do you even run, bro?"

With this boost in speed, I only needed about two hours each day to hit my word requirements.

2. Shutting down the need for perfection. I can't speak for other writers, but I suffer from this idea that whatever I'm writing as to be perfect the first time, otherwise it's putrid garbage that has to be disintegrated for the sake of the world.

This affliction is one of the major reasons why, despite having the desire to write a book since President Obama was first elected, I'm only just now actually trying; why put so much effort into something that will undoubtedly suck worse than Dick Cheney's aim? Better to play it safe and let the dream live a bit longer.

Well, the great thing about NaNoWriMo is that in order to win, you don't need your novel to be perfect. Or even good, for that matter; this first draft is going to be uglier and grosser than a greased up Hutt.

So, a hutt...

The only thing that matters in NaNoWriMo is the word count. 50,000 of them, to be exact. You can write the biggest piece of garbage on Earth, and as long as it meets the word count, you're golden. With that in mind, I was able to suppress that horrible itch for perfection and hammer out 50,076 words of pure vomit. And it was glorious.

3. The need for a plot. The motto of NaNoWriMo is "no plot? No problem." While it certainly helps to have a plot outline, character biographies, and copious notes about the setting, it isn't necessary. There are two types of people who do NaNo, plotters and pantsers. Pantsers are the folks who "fly by the seat of their pants" and don't do any sort of planning. They just sit and write whatever comes to mind. Or whatever would be cool. Or whatever their cat tells them to write. I'm sure you can guess which group I belonged to.

"Dude, write about vampires. Everyone loves vampires."

Originally, the concern was that I would never be capable of completing the challenge; 50,000 is a lot of words after all, and I'm not very creative/smart/etc. The well of inspiration would run dry long before I reached the goal and I would be left floundering in the sand.

Thankfully, I was very much wrong about that. While 50,000 words sounds fairly daunting, it's not quite as bad as it seems. At the end of November, much to my surprise, I found myself meeting the word count goal with my book still incomplete. As it stands, it isn't even the fully formed skeleton of a story; half the bones have been stolen by wild animals, who have proceeded to suck the marrow out.

And I still have much to write before this first draft is done.

In the end, I managed to complete the word count goals and "win" NaNoWriMo. It was a truly awesome feeling, because I'm not used to winning at anything; I mostly fall flat on my face in the mud. Being able to sit back in my chair and exalt over a hard won victory is a rare thrill. These days, I am in desperate need of any sort of win, and completing NaNoWriMo was like a balm.

With that victory came a rush of hopes and ideas for the future. Maybe I can do this thing. Maybe I too will make the New York Times Bestseller list. Perhaps people will one day compare me to the greats, like Stephen King or Jim Butcher or Terry Pratchett.

Perhaps, perhaps. We shall see.

New Year, New Goals

You guys smell that? That's the scent of a brand new year, fresh out of the box. Notice how pleasant the aroma is? It's a stark contrast to last year, which smelled like rancid, three day old moldy diarrhea near the end. So with that wonderful mental image firmly implanted into your mind, I bid everyone:

Let's get right down to it, shall we?

I want to talk about this years goals. But before I get to that, I want to clarify something: I fucking hate New Years Resolutions. And yes, I know I made a few last year, which I may or may not have actually gotten around to (I didn't), and that's my point. For most of us, a New Year Resolution is made the moment that fresh clean New Year smell hits your nose like a perfumed soaked brick. You proudly puff out your chest and declare to the universe that this time, this year, you'll finally accomplish some obstacle you've been grappling with. Maybe you want to finally quit smoking- and more power to you, because smoking is gross, and smokers smell worst than 2014. Or perhaps you want to shed that extra weight. Something I also support, because I would love to see less morbidly obese women running around in yoga pants this year. Pretty please? With sugar on-- never mind, no sugar! You've had enough.

Regardless of what your resolutions are, you grit your teeth and plow forward with the grim determination of an action hero out to slay the dragon. For about two weeks.

You see, the vast majority of people give up after those first two weeks. There are no doubt countless reasons, but the biggest one is they discover that accomplishing stuff actually requires work, and fuck that! This is 'Murica, the land of instant gratification where all of your answers take the form of a pill. After two weeks-- three if you're one of the stubborn ones-- you wake up and discover that you haven't dropped those fifty pounds and don't look like Chris Evans. Or you find that you still have that awful craving, and the overwhelming urge to suck on that cancer stick.

This should take 10 days, tops

Hey, I get it. That stuff is really hard to shake off and overcome. Change doesn't come easy, to any of us. I know I've been battling my fair share of bad habits for years, with few successes and many failures.

My issues with New Years Resolutions are:

1. They are made out of tradition rather than a desire to change and grow. Think about it: if that resolution was so important to you, why did you have to wait until this fresh, shiny new year to go about doing it? Why wait until the new year to stop smoking, when September would have been even better?

Because much like fire works, the Times Square celebration, and getting absolutely smashed beyond recognition or hope of recovery, it's what is done during the new year. It's all part of the routine. And people are always slaves to routine.

Happy New Year!

2. Everyone is making them. There are times when it's good to have a morale boost in the form of your friends, family and coworkers working toward a resolution. The problem is you've got a few assholes shy of everyone doing this. At the same time. In the same space that you're doing it. Having a hard time with that smoking thing? Find yourself cranky, irritable, and looking for the slightest reason to punch a motherfucker out? Well, guess what: there are likely hundreds, if not thousands, of other cranky, irritable quitters also wanting to introduce your nose to their meaty fists.

And even if there's no violence-- which would be a pity, I know-- you have to keep in mind how easy human beings are swayed by the group. We're a social species. If you get together with a group trying to quit smoking, you are just as likely to convince each other that it's a futile effort and start lighting up on the spot as you are to keep going.

"Well, we tried. Maybe next year."

So to summarize, I don't like resolutions because they're done out of a sense of tradition rather than a genuine desire to change, and every schmuck is doing them. I guess I could have just said that and moved on, instead of that blatant display of verbosity. Meh.

Anywho, I'm going to list my goals for the New Year. Goals, not resolutions. These are things I've been working on all along, not something I decided to do because it's January. They, like me, are a work in progress; some will take longer to accomplish than others, and some will be discarded. In no particular order of importance:

1. Acquire a vehicle. As much as my tree-hugging, hippy side rebels against the very notion of a car, I fear I am forced into a corner; my job recently moved to a new location, and I now spend roughly 43 minutes biking home from work each night; on holidays and Sundays, I also have to bike to work. While this is excellent cardio and ties into another goal of mine, it's also time consuming and not a little exhausting. And I have to bring an extra set of clothes to replace the sodden mess I rode in with.

2. Become healthier. Personal wellness should be on the forefront of everyone's mind. You truly only have you health going for you, and should something happen to it, you have nothing. My goal is to cut back on the garbage, eat more veggies, and get plenty of exercise. Should some of the belly disappear from around my waist, that will be a bonus, not the goal.

3. Go to War. For years, I've been tormented by crippling debt, thanks to foolishly being convinced a college education was the way one advanced in this country. I'm 32 years old, and I have nothing to show for the thousands of dollars I've spent on college; I have no house, no car, and no savings; I'm living pay check to pay check. I'm one emergency away from true disaster.

For the past year, I've been just managing to make the minimum payments. At this rate, I will be paying this debt off into my 40's. Once paid off, I'll be 42 and broke, with no savings or retirement plan set up. Trying to do normal things like starting a family-- should I suddenly go insane and actually desire such a thing-- or vacations will be out of the question.

Enough is enough. I'm tired of having this debt hanging over my head, a veritable Sword of Damocles just waiting for the right opportunity to strike me down. I'm sick of the nagging worry of missing a payment and having my credit score suffer, or to experience the dozen or so phone calls from collection agencies at all hours of the day demanding my blood.

I'm sick of having my life limited by what the debt will allow me to do. It's like I'm a slave, and the debt is adamant chains held by monstrous, diabolic overseers. Every move I make is met with a cruel tug of the chains.

This is your life in debt

Starting now, I'll begin to wage war against this debt; I will no longer be a slave. I will begin to pay them off in earnest. It will be difficult, and the coming years promise to be exhausting, but it has to be done.

I plan on a two pronged method of attack. I'll reduce my spending to the bare minimum by going with a smaller phone plan, ditching my netflix, and the like. And I'll need to get a second, part time job. If I can pay an extra $500 on top of the minimum payments I've been making, I can be completely out of debt in roughly 6 years, even faster if I can scrap together more.

4. Finish my book. Back in November, I participated in NaNoWriMo for the first time. I plan on detailing that wackiness in another blog, but the point is I have the skeleton of a book written; 50,000 words on paper, with much more left to do. My goal is to finish it, edit it, rewrite it, and repeat a few more times until, by the end of the year, I have a book ready for publishing.

5. Learn to like myself. It's no secret that I don't think too highly of myself. I don't know where I got the idea that I'm animated garbage in human form, but it isn't healthy, and so I'm going to toss that mindset into the nearest landfill.

A self portrait

There are more than likely others, but I can't think of them. But since these aren't resolutions, there won't be any problem with me adding them to the list down the way, rather than putting them in my back pocket until the end of the year.