author: Nicole J. LeBoeuf

Wow. Not a heck of a lot of novel gets edited in an hour and a half. I got through about... three pages. Three well-marked pages, and lots of accompanying mustn't forgets in my notebook.

I have realized that A) the first scene in my novel sucks, but B) it has to stay, so C) I may end up utterly rewriting it.

This must be why the fate of so many 1950s-era story drafts was to end as a crumpled-up ball on the floor. Not unlike the fate of several clinically depressed writers, sadly enough.

Well, more tomorrow. I'll be getting on a plane and heading off to Seattle. Which is fortunate, because the first scene in this novel involves a plane taking off at Seatac. I mustn't forget to notice exactly how the preflight briefing speech goes, exactly what Seatac's geographical relationship to Seattle is (with reference to I-5), and exactly how (and whether) the name of that aiport town is supposed to be punctuated. ("Sea-Tac"? "Seatac"? "SeaTac"? Er...)

In a way, that means my vacation is a paid vacation. I would be more jolly about that fact if I knew I actually would get paid, of course. But, as noted in the previous entry, you don't get contracted pre-novel until after you've novelled pre-contract. Whee!

In other news, I've started working on the definitive PDF template for archiving Neverending Choose-Your-Own-Adventure Stories. And I finally got a working cron job in place on that site and scheduled to prune the deleted items list every morning at five past midnight. Yes, it's procrastination, but it's productive procrastination, so shut up.

NaNoWriMo writers in search of something to get pissed off about should go here. (Nota bene: While this particular article is safe for the work environment, the rest of Ms. Case's blog is decidedly not.) Those who would like to refrain from bringing the gunpowder kegs of their tempers into close proximity with the sparks of Ms. Case's small-minded ignorance might wish to read this brief excerpt instead.

There is no market for 50,000 word novels. No real publisher will look at a novel that short, but it is too long to be published as a novella. It is pretty much the most useless length of story someone could train themselves to tell. Different word counts lend themselves to different sorts of stories, with different levels of complexity and character involvement. The 50,000 word length is what happens when a real writer gets stuck and has a story too complex for short fiction but not rich enough for an actual novel. A 50,000 word story is a tragedy which will never see the outside of the writer’s desk drawer. And NaNoWriMo is trying to teach people how to turn a passing interest in writing into a failure.

There is nothing wrong with writing only for yourself or for yourself and a few loved ones or for yourself and few drinking buddies. Writing to satisfy only your own passion in fine. Writing to only amuse a small group is fine. Writing a professional word count because the rent does not pay itself is fine. But forcing yourself to write crap for a month? That is just pathetic and the people encouraging this should be embarrassed.

A winning NaNoWriMo manuscript is a first draft. This is the main bit Ms. Case appears not to get. She is under the impression that a 50,000 word manuscript can't grow to a more acceptable novel length (or shrink to a lovely novella) on the rewrite. (She may also be unaware that 50K is actually right on the money for a YA novel.) She is under the impression, furthermore, that those 50,000 words are set in stone. That if they are crap on November 30 they will remain crap forever and thus be a waste of the NaNoWriMo competitor's time. Foolish woman, I say! Foolish, foolish woman! And you know what else?

The process of writing a 50K-word plot in 30 days is worthwhile regardless of whether a rewrite ever happens. Ms. Case is under yet another foolish impression: that our efforts are doomed to failure and our time is wasted thereby. I beg to differ. I have heard the anecdote repeated by various published writers (the source, according to Neil Gaiman, is Raymond Chandler) that every writer has a million words of crap in him, and the trick is to practice through those million words as fast as possible. 50,000 words is a fair bit of practice! And it's not just timed writing exercises a la Goldberg or morning pages a la Cameron. It's 50,000 words on a single story. So it's an exercise not only in writing, but in sticking with a single story for a whole month, and in getting that story told on a month's deadline. These are all worthwhile skills. No writer who takes on the NaNoWriMo challenge should be called a failure - and no writer who wins at that challenge should ever be considered to have wasted his or her time.

The people encouraging NaNoWriMo ought to be proud of themselves. By providing a well-publicized dare and an organized online community to share in that dare, Chris Baty and his Minions Of Love And Carpal Tunnel Syndrome have given us that psychological kick in the pants that many people need (and should not be ridiculed for needing) to go from "I'll write a book someday," to, "I've written a book!" The career writer ends up with a serviceable rough draft; the non-career writer ends up with an outlet for whatever thoughts have been prowling restlessly inside. And, hey, check this out, NaNoWriMo as an entity has raised enough money this year not only to pay its own operational costs but also to build three, going on four, libraries in Cambodia.

Ms. Case thinks that Chris Baty et al should be ashamed?

I think Ms. Case should be ashamed. I mean, libraries in Cambodia!

Now, the question of whether a NaNoWriMo winner should be encouraged to call him/herself a "novelist" is of course up for grabs. My friend Alma, for instance, says no. And her opinion, not unexpectedly, has made quite a few NaNoWriMo participants pretty angry. Rereading her article now and comparing it to the follow-up conversation I had with her last year, I think that's mostly because in her vehemence she appears to throw the baby out with the bathwater. But I don't think baby-disposal was actually her intention - she clarifies her opinion in a calmer manner at the bottom of this page. If you find yourself getting upset with her article, do read this follow-up before saying anything rash.

Alma's opinion is simply this: if all you have done is pounded out a 50,000 word rough draft, claiming the title "novelist" makes light of the hard work that the career of a novelist implies: you write and revise book after book and you send them off to agents and publishers and you steel yourself for rejections and you hope against faltering hope that this time it's a buy because you've got a mortgage to pay and dinner to put on the table. Until you've been through that wringer, she says, you can brag that you've written a book, and it's a great brag, but you shouldn't call yourself a novelist, and Chris Baty oughtn't to encourage you to call yourself a novelist.

It's a valid opinion, and it differs from Ms. Case's in that it gets my respect. Alma's opinion is informed by somewhat more knowledge of what NaNoWriMo is about than is Ms. Case's - she understands the bit about it being a rough draft, you see, and Ms. Case does not. Alma's later clarification makes clear that her objection is simply to the use of an unearned word; Ms. Case's problem, as her encore elucidates, is with NaNoWriMo participants' use of their time, "using NaNoWriMo as their excuse to be inconsiderate lovers and friends.... making these excuses to people who have real keep-food-on-the-table deadlines to make and acting like theirs were more important." Perhaps Ms. Case only cuts slack for writers whose deadline is imposed by people who sign paychecks? All other writers - you know, us slackers who compose manuscripts on pure hope, not having yet enjoyed the level of success that brings a publisher's multibook contract - we're not following our dreams; we're just being "inconsiderate." (Gods only know how we're supposed to get to that level of success if we're not allowed to take the time to write now.)

And don't think she's backed off at all from her original epithets for NaNoWriMo participants:

...trophy wives trying to prove they have a few brain cells now that they are getting older and less pretty.... unemployed leech boyfriends who need to claim they are doing something besides shooting up and watching cartoons while their girl is at work.

Unlike Alma, who is simply arguing for one definition of the word "novelist" over another, Ms. Case has utter contempt for the entire NaNoWriMo she-bang and all its participants. She would be made happiest, I think, if one day she clicked on this link and got redirected to one of those "This Domain Could Be Yours!" sites. And she has advice for her NaNoWriMo participant friends:

There is also nothing wrong with loving books in general and novels in specific and not wanting to write one. Reading is a perfectly good pastime. Internet technology makes it really easy to keep a journal about whatever you actually do feel moved to write about. So maybe next November, fewer people will bring up the NaNoWriMo travesty. At least to me.

Yes, the ending still makes me cry.

There's hope for this novel yet.

From NaNoEdMo.org:

What counts as an hour?
For the purpose of this event, an hour is any amount of time spent making actual edits. Clacking out words on the keyboard, crossing out things on the page, writing new words in the margins... Big structural thinking is more pre-prep. Besides, if I clocked every moment I spent thinking about my novel, I'd finish the 50 hours in just over 2 days. But actually working on it? That's another story altogether. And that's what NaNoEdMo is all about.

So, yes, I'm going to try for that 50 hours in a month thing. The month will be December. Ish. I'm actually attempting to get through one cycle by Jan 5, as outlined previously. (I think I need some sort of place to display that goal, prominently, on this blog somewhere. But I think I need to think about that later, and write now.)

Go see this movie. Go see it right now this minute well OK tomorrow. It is pure sublimity in a 90 minute package. It is beautiful and sad and uplifting and full of a goodness that is in rare short supply.

My husband said he liked the movie very much, and would have liked it even better if the second half of it weren't so blurry.

When you go, bring with you half a box of tissue, and, if you have one at your disposal, bring also a small child to tell you that the movie's over you can stop crying now no really.

OK, so it's not really a misery journey. I admit I am misusing the term. But, never having revised a book before, let alone one of my so-called novel drafts, and knowing how I start to get the creeping horrors when it's time to revise a short story... I am being duly pessimistic. Misery! Horrors! Novel Revision Hell!

Why am I doing this now? Well, it's too soon to start revising my 2004 novel. I am a firm believer of composting the first draft, having that quiet faith in round new potatoes springing from the rotten, sprouting remains of the old tubers you pitched out into the backyard. Also, which is more to the point, having the too-close-to-the-text syndrome something awful. And as for my 2002 NaNoWriMo expedition, well, it didn't seem as good a fit for what I have in mind...

Wizards of the Coast is seeking proposals for its brand-new line of fiction! Our exciting new imprint will publish science fiction, fantasy, horror, alternate history, magic realism, or anything in-between. If it can be shelved in the Science Fiction/Fantasy/Horror section of your local bookstore, we want it! We're interested both in the first book in a trilogy or longer series as well as stand-alone stories.

We are looking for the best, most original idea as well as compelling writing. We'll consider any style and subject matter. Please be aware, though, that what will count most for us is your ability to tell an exciting, original story in prose that makes us want to keep turning the pages.

To launch this book and the new imprint under which it will be published, we are planning a substantial marketing campaign. This book will be one of the most important that we publish in 2006.

So I'm considering submitting this novel right here. Worse case scenario, I have a ready-to-flog book that didn't get accepted. Best case scenario, I have a humungo monster marketing machine jump-start to my career.

Actually, the worst case scenario, if my paranoia is at all well founded, is that I submit it, they like it, they don't feel like paying me for it, and they'll run off into that misty territory where the legal agreement's "idea submission" subclause (c) meets the "waiver" clause, and they'll steal my novel. I'm hoping that someone who's more knowledgeable than I in the ways of publishing contracts can take a look at the legal agreement and advise me as to whether I should even be considering touching this contest with a ten-foot pole. (Yes, yes, I know that "but what if they steal my manuscript?" worry is frightfully amateurish. Look, I'm willing to quack like that duck if it keeps me from getting slaughtered like a lamb.)

But what the hell. Even if I oughtn't to submit, I'll have a finished novel. To submit elsewhere. And to shake happily in the face of Jethro and his Greeley Novel Finishing Month Pledge, which I have Undersigned myself to as follows:

Welcome to the Greeley Novelists Finishing Month!

We the undersigned vow to reach our own personal goals by January 5, 2005. We will encourage and applaud each other to strive to reach these lofty goals (unless, of course, we fail to reach those goals which gives the other GreNos free reign to change your middle name to "Nunn.")

We undertake this challenge knowing full-well that our friends, family and loved ones will be largely ignored for large blocks of time. We understand this is the same month as Christmas, New Year's Eve and probably lots of auto-ped accidents and that no sane people would even attempt it at this time of year. We don't care. We will do this...

Name: Nicole J. LeBoeuf-Little

Personal Goal: Completing one (1) revision cycle on my 2003 NaNoWriMo Novel (working title: "The Drowning Boy") with option to submit it to WOTC's Novel Proposal Contest by mid-February.

So I got started thinking about it last night. I printed me out a copy of Holly Lisle's One-Pass Manuscript Revision technique and scrounged around for a one-subject spiral notebook and wrote down, "Theme:" ... and then I played video games until bedtime. But it's a start!

Better still was taking a longish walk down to the Whole Foods at Pearl and 30th Streets for some groceries, and rehashing the story arc in my head. Those who know me (and those who have lived with me) know that such rehashing was prone to coming out of my head. I talk to myself think out loud. Well, how am I gonna know what I'm thinking unless I tell myself, eh? Anyway, by the time I got home again with the cat food fixings and the sushi elements and the dishwashing liquid and the toilet paper (and the painful shoulders buckling under the weight of the two canvas sacks)... I had all sorts of insights about the story. To whit:

• The parallels, symmetries, and contradictions between the main character and his brother
• The odd sort of moral relativity introduced by positing a species that reproduces only by mating with drowning humans and refraining from rescuing them
• The difference between said reproduction and true sexual predation
• The way the main character's two closest acquaintances react to his time on land growing short
• And how life's basic unfairness doesn't let us off the hook from the responsibilty of acting justly.

OK, I admit it. I am not, thus far, a very good blogger. Given the panic of getting the novel finished, there was no time to blog. But I would be a singularly abyssmal blogger if I did not at least journal the final days of the month and my pulled-out-of-my-backside win. At the very least, I should show off my "Winner!" .jpg, right?

So. Saturday I stayed up all night. Remember how I was going to stay up all night on Samhain and write straight until dawn? Apparently I wasn't serious enough. It takes a real fear of failure for me to get serious and fight the sleepies. That fear didn't really hit until Saturday morning. Even on Friday night I failed to pound out my quota, even with a quota of 7K per day! And Saturday I rather sabotaged, even considering the mixed blessing of a cancelled flying lesson (winds in excess of 28 knots at JeffCo).

I sabotaged it in a really yummy way, though. I went to the Redstone Meadery and tasted pretty much everything they had. That included the 2001 Reserve, best decribed as "the Port of mead." Then I went home and had a mead-induced nap. Word count at the time: 38,000. In trouble? Oh yeah.

So I got back to work around 8:00 and I stayed up all night, averaging about 1,000 words an hour but not necessarily many hours in a row. And I don't do that well. It helped that the rest of the household was up most the night too.

By 7:00 I had the novel up to its major crisis point and the sleepies were really starting to hit, so I went across the street to Vic's for a change of scenery and a bit more caffeine. I asked the barrista, "So what would you recommend for someone who's been up all night and isn't done yet?" He suggested something called a "depth charge." This turned out to be a shot of espresso dumped into a cup of coffee, and it was nasty. A bunch of sugar, cinnamon, and vanilla powder seemed to help. That, and a glass of orange juice, because I try to accompany my drugs with actual food.

I got the climactic penultimate scene written while at the cafe. There came a point where I was crying like a baby while typing it out, and I'm sure the gal at the table next to mine thought I was a basket case. It's usually a good sign that the story, however awkwardly told, is worth telling, so I was starting to get really excited.

I went back home to write the end of the novel. I cried some more. The surviving characters cried some more, and laughed a little too. I wrote the last line, checked my word count, and really started crying.

Barely more than 46,000 words.

Shit!

The rest of the day was spent frantically pulling extra scenes out of, like I said, my backside. And for the last 2K I wasn't even writing story anymore but background material and brainstorming.

But I did finish. And in time to watch Adult Swim, too. So, Yay! Chalk me up another NaNoWriMo win. One more rough draft to go into my compost drawer until such time as I'm ready for a revision... in... I dunno, how about March?

...and charging on. No time to say much more than that, because if I stop for tonight I'll be left with more than 8K per day - and I won't have time to do that on Sunday! So, on I go.

The characters are about to reach the midpoint crisis. The main character's girlfriend is suggesting a trip to the beach. It spelled trouble for Ranulf and Undine, and it sure as heck ain't a good idea for these kids either.

Addendum: I really should add a "current word count" field to the Nanoblog database table. That and a "which year's novel" indication so that I can reuse it from year to year. And I should actually use the "image" field I put in there...

[Ed. Note: Done. 2003-03-12]

[Ed. Note: Improved. 2005-08-21]

Back to the current word count thing:

I'm currently at 25,072 words. My next reward comes at 27,000 words, when I will allow myself more coffee. Then at 30,000 words I'll let myself have a forum break and then go to sleep. Maybe tonight I'll be able to fight off the sleepies.

37,533 / 7 = 5362, rounded up.

So I guess I'll say hi again about 5362 words from now, which translates to "before midnight, but only just."

We had a great turn out for this week's Boulder meet-up. Lots of chess, lots of Go, lots of chocolate, lots of noise. I got about 1100 words done in the midst of all this. It's starting to break up now (5:16 - and four of us have been here since noon thirty).

The plan for tonight is an Adult Swim marathon (a new Space Ghost Coast To Coast! "Tectonic plates have shifted" since the last time that happened!) and enough food to fool you into thinking Thanksgiving had come a week early. Bridget made pumpkin cheesecake with a gingersnap crust last night (I've had a slice - it's divine) and with the leftover pumpkin I'm going to make muffins. There will also be a field roast (vegetarian version of a roast beef, apparently), a veggie tray, and candied yams.

Sounds like fun, huh? Well, if A) you know where I live, and B) we're currently on speaking terms, you should drop by and join the party and help justify the lack of writing that will happen.

Laundry will happen, though. Laundry, but not writing. That ain't right. Something will have to be done about that.