Should I Do NaNoWriMo?

I'm sure you're all familiar with NaNoWriMo, which has become the best-known writing event in the nation. People all across the country commit to writing a novel during the month of November, and many claim they have succeeded. 

I have mixed feelings about NaNoWriMo. I'll admit it. I like anything that encourages writers to sit down and write. If you've read my Red Sneaker books, you know I advocate a no-frills, no-fuss attitude. In other words, stop whining and write already. NaNoWriMo has largely the same message. Of course, I don't think you should do this for just a month. I think it's a critical part of the writing life. Write every day. Get the work done. Finish and start the next one. But if NaNoWriMo gets your rear in the chair--good. If it helps you get past the urge to edit as you go, to monkey with each page before you've even finished a chapter--grrrrrreat!

On the other hand, the idea that you can write a good book in a month is absurd, and potentially even dangerous. At best, you  might get a decent first draft done in a month, and that's no small thing. (I've never done a draft in anything close to a month, but some people may be smarter. Or at least faster.) For me, the first draft is the hardest, the most painful, and the easiest to make excuses to avoid. What could be tougher than creating something out of nothing? Revising is no piece of cake--I revise and revise, typically working my way through a book ten or fifteen times before I even think about showing it to anyone else. But revision is pleasurable. I like seeing all the parts start to come together. Once I have a first draft down, I know I'll finish the book. It's simply a matter of time.

Should you try NaNoWriMo? First of all, let's define terms. If you attempt this, acknowledge that what you're doing is creating a first draft in thirty days--not a finished novel. (And by the way, 50,000 w0rds is not a publishable length for a novel in most markets.) Even then, whether you should attempt this, in my mind, depends upon whether you have trouble getting motivated. If you need a little push and this artificial calendar event helps, then by all means, try it.

What I will caution you against is trying to rush a book, that is, sacrificing quality for speed. There's too much of that going on in the world today. When people talk about junk books, too often they pick on the growing legion of self-published novels, but the truth is, it's going on in the traditional publishing world as well. The Big Five publishers are actively encouraging their big-name legacy writers to crank out more books, particularly series books, sometimes two or three a year.

The results are inevitable. First, authors lose their personal lives. Second, the books have not gestated as long as a good book requires, so they won't be as good as they might've otherwise been. They may be perfectly competent, mind you, adequate bubble-gum, time-passing material, but much of the richness, texture, and quality will be lost. The fact that this is encouraged nonetheless shows how schizophrenic the current tradional publishing world truly is. On the one hand, they trumpet so-called upscale fiction, meaning genre fiction that is supposedly better written, that has the art and craft of a literary novel. But they're paying their bills by enouraging their best-known writers to produce more and more quickly.

This is a relatively new development. Back in the day, when I was writing a Ben Kincaid novel a year for Random House, I occasionally suggested that I could do more--mostly because I wanted to write something different. Repeatedly I was told to chill. To have more than one book released a year would "glut the market."  Critics and fans would rebel. No one can produce good books that quickly. (And in truth, a year is often not long enough.) But today economic needs, driven by profit shortfalls stemming from the increasingly less profitable print arena, are causing publishers to change their tunes.

I don't want to live in a world where novels are cranked out on a rigid conveyor belt. I've already heard tales of people dictating novels into their phones while they drive, and we know many of those Big Five legacy authors are using co-writers and ghosts who may or may not be acknowledged on the cover. Yes, I've always advocated an unpretentious approach to writing. But I still believe quality is paramount. The whole point of my eight Red Sneaker books (the ninth coming soon) and the conferences and the seminars is to help you produce the best book possible. If NaNoWriMo helps you get there, fine. But don't ever do anything that compromises the quality of your work. Amazon is already flooded with mediocre books. That's not how you break out. That's not how you get the writing career you want.

Make your book the best it can possibly be. That's your ticket to success. Quality.