Ah, November: when fall changes to winter and families gather to glut themselves on buttery deliciousness. November also happens to be National Novel Writing Month. As I have in years past, I started a
NaNoWriMo project and then couldn't figure out what the hizzle to write. Okay, so I wanted to do a collection of short stories rather than a novel, because I figured I would have to have a less grand plan for them, but of course, a plan is still necessary for a short story. And for twelve short stories, well, one must have twelve plans.
Which begs the
question, how good are these NaNoWriMo novels, anyway? This is not sour
grapes, I still have hopes that I will finish my project on time. The
question comes from my knowledge that the work I am turning out right
now is far from my best. Then again, it is work. I know that the point
of NaNoWriMo is to get people to (say it with me folks!) apply the ass
to the chair, to actually write that novel they keep telling everyone
they're going to write that day. And for my own part, yes, I am
actually churning out some work, and getting some great ideas while I'm
at it. But in terms of quality? It's not quite there. Basically, what
we see on my NaNoWriMo screen is stream-of-consciousness that may or
may not make sense to a reader.
- Type faster, pokey!
Which
brings to mind Jack Kerouac. Before you Kerouac fans get all
defensive, I am not dissing the fella, nor am I saying that his writing
was bad. What I am saying is, he famously wrote On the Road in, like,
ten minutes (actually, it was three weeks -- a shorter period of time
than the month of November). As the story goes, Old Jackie sat at his
typewriter, fingers bouncing all over the keys, pounding words onto a
120-ft scroll of paper as his wife wiped the profuse sweat from his
face. On publication, he added paragraph breaks and margins, took out
some sections and added others, but the point is after three weeks,
homeboy had himself a novel. And it turned out to be a major novel.
- Looking smug, I daresay.
While
On the Road was a bestseller that some said revitalized the world of
literature in the 1950's, others were considerably less pleased with the
work, and wholly unimpressed with the method of writing. I am thinking
of Truman Capote here, that catty scribe, who, upon hearing about
Kerouac's three-week writing binge, famously said "That isn't writing.
That's typing." (A little disclaimer here, folks: everywhere I looked
to get the exact quote, it was different. While nobody disputes that
Capote did say this -- it just sounds like the sort of thing he'd say,
doesn't it? -- everybody who quotes him seems to be paraphrasing.)
- Oh, you spiteful kitty, you.
What
Capote seemed to be getting at with that little jibe was this: Anyone
with a little time and a decent idea (and a wife who will change your
shirt for you as you type) can write a book in three weeks. That
doesn't make it good. A writer takes time and consideration when
putting word to paper, puts thought and care into the words they choose.
It's
hard to imagine that the NaNo people are super concerned with the
quality of their participants' writing so much as they are concerned
with the fact of the writing. That is, they are trying to encourage
people, all people, to think about words, to think about expressing
themselves in words, to imagine a world of their own and assign it a
reality on paper. And in that sense, they are saying to the whole world
the same thing that Truman Capote said to Jack Kerouac: Anyone can do
it if they sit down and try.
How good it is, then, is not the point. And that's what I tell myself this month.
