Back in October, I posted a heads up on this newsletter that I wouldn’t be posting during the month of November because I had decided to take part in Novel November — a challenge to write 50,000 words of a novel in one month. I had completed the challenge seven times before back when it was under the umbrella of NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month), but this was the first time I had attempted it since becoming a mother, and to say I was apprehensive would be an understatement. But saying yes to that project that my heart yearned for has continued to bless my life. (My apologies to anyone who finds that language off-putting, but it really is the best word I can find to describe what unfolded after I started Novel November.)
I Rediscovered Joy in My Writing
Back in my teens and twenties, I created characters that I loved so much that developing their stories never felt like work—it always felt like play. (Sometimes, it quite literally WAS play, as I had dolls to represent the characters.) Because writing about them was so fun, it was hard for me to see it as “serious” writing. So while I kept their stories alive, I would also devote myself to what I considered “real” writing — mostly fantasy and science fiction novels, many of which drew upon the same characters I loved but placing them in different settings and situations than I had initially created for them.
This storytelling was something I shared with my younger sister and a long-distance friend. Everything I created had an audience of two, which was enough to keep me going. But when my younger sister told me she was done with the story, I was so heartbroken that I stopped, too. I put those characters and that writing away. For the next twenty years, I continued to write — nonfiction essays, blogs, speculative fiction with autobiographical elements. I created good work during those years, work I convinced myself was “better” than what I’d written back when creating had been so much fun.
But in 2014, I started hearing whispers from those characters I’d put away. I had an idea of what had happened to them after our story ended. I wrote about them again, tentatively, in 2016 for NaNoWriMo. But I was in the throes of the morning sickness and exhaustion of early pregnancy, and the experience was anything but joyful. Because I felt so horrible, I assumed what I’d written during that time must have been really bad, too, and I didn’t think about it again for almost ten years.
Then Narratively put out a call for essays about “My Secret Obsession” and I really told the story of that time in my life for the first time. Although Narratively ultimately rejected the essay, writing it had healed something in me. I pulled out all the writing I had done about these characters in the past. I fell in love with them again. I saw them with new eyes, having experienced many of the things (sex, marriage, motherhood, travel) that I had only imagined for them. I decided to write about them again, not disguised in science fiction or fantasy, but as themselves in the real world just as I had initially created them. Except now, I had the real-life experiences to bring greater depth and authenticity to their stories.
From the beginning, writing my November novel was different. Rather than being something I “had” to do (which is how I often have thought about my writing), it became something I looked forward to. The words flew onto the page, and I’d hit 50,000 by November 25. I giggled as I wrote. I sent (spoiler-free) screenshots to the friend who had been part of the story before. Writing became not something to cross off my list, but my favorite part of the day. And the time-boxed nature of the November challenge gave me some authority to advocate for it over other priorities, and my amazingly supportive spouse made sure we structured our weekends so I could get some words onto the page regardless of what else we had going on.
I Found Writing Structure and Community
A member of my writer’s group made an offhand comment about his Shut Up & Write meetings in an email, and a door opened. I discovered that SUAW is an organization dedicated to creating communal writing times for the structure, accountability, and community that keeps writers on track. The structure of a SUAW meeting involves 15 minutes of check-in, designated writing time in silence (usually 60 to 90 minutes), and then 15 minutes to check out at the end. I started attending virtual SUAW meetings every Friday before November, and Friday quickly became my favorite day of the week. It was when I felt the most joy in my writing, the most like a “real” writer. So in November, I decided to bump things up a notch. I attended SUAW meetings online MWF mornings, and when our schedule permitted, an in-person one at a local coffee shop on Sunday afternoons.
When November ended, I’d hit my word count goal but still hadn’t finished the novel. And I decided to continue my SU&W schedule of MWF and as many Sundays as I could make work. The combination of community and scheduled writing time make me feel more like a “real” writer than I’ve ever felt in my life.
I Reconnected with an Old Friend
My sister and I had always had an unspoken agreement that I could write about her characters, but I reached out to her for explicit permission and access to some of her writing about the characters before I dove back in. I also contacted my long-distance friend asking if it would be okay with her if I used or mentioned her characters in my novel. Her response was so touching and affirming that I posted it at my writing desk:
You are welcome and encouraged to mention, reference, and include any of my characters in any way you like. I trust you completely with them and know you will treat them with the utmost respect. It would be an honor for me to see my characters appear in your work, whether it’s a brief mention or something more fleshed out.
Over the next few days, my friend told me that my project had gotten her creative juices flowing again and we started calling what we were creating the “reboot,” a reviving of characters we’d created in our teens and twenties approached with the wisdom and greater life experience of middle age. We began texting daily about collaborative projects, and checking in about stuff that was happening in our real lives, too. What an unexpected gift.
Now that November is over, unfortunately, all my other responsibilities have rushed back in (the holidays, sick days, dishes, laundry, volunteer work, political activism, Substack) and my progress on my novel has slowed WAY down. This has been frustrating because I’m incredibly close to the end and could finish it in a week or two if I could reclaim the kind of space I demanded for my writing during November. I always expected Novel November to give me another finished novel under my belt, and I know I’ll get there. What I didn’t expect was all the other wonderful gifts that came with it.
Finish it February. Make it happen. Loved reading this and made me think of what I need to do, CNS and fatherhood be damned
Glad to hear of your progress. Take a couple of deep breaths. The time to finish it will come when it’s ready.