Skip to main content

The Treachery Of NaNoWriMo

NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) is officially underway. As I have done the past 3 years, I have signed up and committed to doing the work to write a novel (or at least log 50, 000 words within the 30 day period).

I am a writer. I write.

And yet, every year something happens when I sign up for NaNoWriMo--I choke. Or I fall in to the mode of being incredibly intimidated by 50,000 words.

That's why the smart folks at NaNoWriMo (nanowrimo.org) break it down in to bite size chunks.

Write 1500 words a day. For 30 days. Throw some sprints in there. And some days where you do more and by simple mathematics (not common core), you will hit 50,000 words.

So...as I mentioned, I always signed up for it.

I never logged one single word. I never came up with a title. A concept. Hell, I never even uploaded a bio-pic.

This year was--IS--different. This year I fell in to a really kick ass group of writers that decided to take me in to their fold (no, it's true...I'll probably even get a bio on the web site soon). And through their guidance and inspiration, I have taken the plunge of doing NaNoWriMo again this year.

And guess what?

I wrote.

Today was Day 1 and I just updated my word counter with what I worked on today. 1,585 words. I have a novel title (inspired by a previous blog post), and a cover.

This is the year I kick NaNoWriMo's ass. But more importantly, this is the year that I just fucking write.

Because that's what a writer does.

They write.

And I'm a writer, by god.

The novel is called "The Treachery of Rainbows." You might recognize the cover:

And below is my Bio that might make it up to the web site:

Andrew Todd



Eschewing societal norms of what makes a writer successful, Andrew has happily wandered down the path of writing for one simple reason; It’s cheaper than therapy.  He also writes for the sheer joy of taking someone along for the crazy ride navigating the waters of that which normally floats around in his head. Two simple reasons. He writes for two simple reasons. The third of the two simple reasons being a long bloodline stemming back to the Emerald Isle, where storytelling is as much a part of life as breathing. And who doesn’t like to breathe? Following a self prescribed path of the Way of the Twisted Zen, you can find his current work and words in the blogosphere where he is espousing on the joys of Cooking For One (http://randomtzp.blogspot.com)


And now, this writer is off to check on his laundry, because although I have no problem writing naked, going to my day job naked is generally frowned upon.

Have a kick ass evening...and don't waste another day deciding whether or not to follow your passion--it won't wait around forever.

-AT


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Out of Sorts

Not sure what my deal is today. I got up this morning to go for a walk and it was spitting rain, but no biggie. My thriftstore Nikes were kind of hurting my feet, so that didn't help. But it felt good to go for the walk (other than the hurting feet). And it's all going well...and then I get into work and just turn into PMS-Man.  I don't know what my deal is. I just feel bitchy this morning and I'm not sure why. So..um. Yeah. That's all I got.

Marriage Material??

I had a friend call me today, fuming. I consider myself a good listener on most days. Considering that I was out of town on a work trip and doing absolutely nothing in my hotel room, my listening game was on-point.

She recounted the exchange that sent her off. I will spare you some of the more personal details, but the gist was, at one point, the dude-bro she was talking to flat out told her that she wasn’t marriage material.

Torn between wanting to be a supportive friend and being completely gobsmacked, I felt her frustration. No. That’s not quite right. I didn’t feel the same frustration she felt. I’m approaching what some consider middle age. I’m white. I’m primarily interested in women. Oh, and I have a penis. So...no, I can never truly feel the same frustration she was feeling. Or an anger that comes from the same place her anger came from. No matter how in touch I am witn my feminine side (whatever the fuck that actually means).

Instead, the frustration and anger I was feeling w…

A Tribute to Limozeen

So...you may recall that I recently got my very first P.O.S. Electric Guitar back. And you may also recall the folly with the "amp" from Freecycle.

And now, dear readers, I will let you in on the dramatic conclusion to those harrowing tales.

From Bob at work I recently got a Vox Pathfinder 15amp which looks a little (exactly) like this:
I have to say, the amp freakin' rocks. It's got built in tremelo, and this killer overdrive feature which makes the thing sound crunchy as all get out.

So tonight, I decided to try it all out. The amp, the POS Guitar, the FAB distortion pedal (purchased the day of the Sam Ash incident), the Alesis drum machine and the Alesis io2.

The results are just...well, funny.

I give you the theme song to the soon to be hit WB-Series, "My 'Tard Husband." I call it "shortbus." Take a listen here. It's about 3MB in size and 4:14 of unbearable cheese (and the guitars get markedly louder at about the minute mark-you've been …