As writers, we all dream of an unending vista of available writing time. No breaks, no interruptions—other than spending 40% of our time compulsively checking Twitter of course—just one neverending sweet, sweet writing zone. Wide open spaces like this are normally a good thing. It’s what we think we want. But when it comes to creativity, sometimes too much space allows for too much procrastination (so we’ve heard… *checks Amazon Prime to see if the Marvelous Mrs. Maisel has dropped yet*). When there’s no specific destination, you can end up spinning in circles, getting nowhere, making yourself dizzy with all the possibilities.
Contrary to what most of us might think, deadlines are not creativity killers. Deadlines provide direction and structure. A deadline gets the heart pumping and silences the inner critic that might otherwise go on for days like someone that’s just discovered how to thread their 280 character tweets. And a deadline provides a much needed sense of accomplishment in a field in which it’s virtually impossible to receive unanimous praise… and when you’re trying to make it, it’s a field in which even the most basic of recognition or validation is hard to come by.
This is one reason why NaNoWriMo is so popular. Suddenly, during the month of November, ALL THE WRITERS are inspired to hit the goal of writing the novel that’s been in their mind for months, years, or even decades. At first, you hit the laptop full force. You go HAM on that draft. You put off the laundry, skip happy hour, survive on leftovers and keep to your writing schedule. But then the laundry starts to pile up, co-workers and friends start wondering where you are, and suddenly you need to make a dessert for Thanksgiving dinner. So your novel takes a reluctant backseat to errands, dinner dates, family… and, well, life.
This is how your novel feels when you’re not writing it.
And as the holiday lights go up, your laptop can just get buried under wrapping paper, gift tags, and tiny sparkly trees. The novel becomes a file in a folder in another folder that maybe won’t get opened until you need to look for those old pictures your dad sent you of family members you’ve never met (remember those? The ones you promised you’d print for him?).
But it doesn’t have to be that way! Remember the excitement of the last few days of October? The dedication and verve you felt on November 1st? That sense of achievement when you hit save on those first thousand words? That feeling when you went from writing a page or two per month to writing twenty, thirty, forty… You can have all those feels again! You deserve them!
How it feels when you OWN that word count target
All you need is a new deadline. NaNoWriMo may be ending today, but that doesn’t mean you have to stop writing and achieving. If you didn’t finish, or meet your goals, give yourself another deadline. Make it as small and realistic for your schedule as it needs to be. That could be 500 words per day, or 1,000 per week. Or 5,000 by New Year’s Day. You can even just commit to 10 or 15 minutes per day, or say you want to write 5 lines per day. Whatever it is, make sure it fits your schedule and your life… and commit to it. Hit those goals! And if you don’t, create new ones that you can hit. Not only will you find your word count steadily increasing, but the more you write, the easier it is to write. If your brain is in Writer Mode every day, the writing will flow. The longer you leave it between sessions, the more work you’ll have to do to crank the Writing Machine back up again.
November may be National Novel Writing Month, but December is the month of gift giving. So give yourself the gift of getting your novel down and on the page, and done. And remember, writing novels is forever, not just for Christmas. Make it your resolution in January to complete it. Make February “editing the first 30%” month. Make March “solve this character’s arc” month. Make April the “make it funny” month.
You get the idea. Find out what works best for you, and do it! And keep doing it.
Now stop reading this and get writing!
A.D. Croucher 