I am procrastinating.
Oh, sure, I look like I’m doing something. I’m typing this blog post, looking like a productive member of society. But do you know what I’m really doing? I’m avoiding my novel.
It’s November, you see. That means that I’m five days into the 30 days of National Novel Writing Month, also known as NaNoWriMo. It’s an amazing writing marathon, 30 days and 50,000 words. It’s like a loud, booming voice in your subconscious: “Would you please stop talking, sit your butt down and just put words on paper, already?”
And I have. Five days into this and I have 10,000 words. I’m actually, incomprehensibly, ahead of my quota, which is a good place to be when Week 2 hits and you suddenly discover that your plot is murky, your characters are bloated and dragging, and you wonder if it’s too late to start over. (Yes, it is.)
This year, though, is harder than most. You see, this year I have a fairly complicated topic and actually conducted preliminary research. People know that I’m writing this thing, and because the stories that they’ve shared are so personal, so intense, I’m left somewhat paralyzed. Could the words that come out of my brain ever do their stories justice?
Fortunately, the pace of this process requires me to let go of that fear (temporarily) and accept that this is just a first draft. It may be an ugly first draft at that. I may go back, look at this thing and think, “Wow! How sleep deprived was I when I wrote this chapter?” But none of that will matter. Why? Because I actually sat myself down and wrote that chapter.
For 11 months out of the year, my writing life is filled with my “real work”. I take companies’ complex ideas and translate them into words that their audiences understand. I might be explaining the ins and outs of solar power to a homeowner. I might be explaining a complicated medical procedure to a patient. I could even be writing a solution brief clarifying tech solutions for an executive audience. It may sound complicated to the uninitiated, but it’s not. Why? None of it requires dialogue. And believe me, there is nothing in the world that’s nearly as hard as trying to get two made-up people to communicate naturally.
And so, as I stare at the blank page that starts another chapter, I’m developing NaNoWriMo Distraction. Suddenly, the clothes need to be washed. The dishwasher needs to be emptied. I feel a compelling urge to write a blog post. But soon, the distracting tasks will all be completed, and I will curl up on the couch, black MacBook in hand. I will begin to type, slowly at first, and then building momentum until suddenly, the clock will indicate some unfathomably late hour and I will be 2,000 words closer to my goal.
Here’s to my fifth NaNoWriMo November. Maybe this year’s effort will be The One.