I spent much of the summer of 2017 running. The lottery Gods had favored me when, upon my first entry for the New York City Marathon, I was selected. My days were packed with working and volunteering and lots and lots of running. On November 5, 2017, I ran my first marathon and on November 6, I knew I needed a new side quest.
That’s why I signed up for NaNoWriMo. National Novel Writing Month is an annual event in the month of November that encourages people to write a 50,000 word fiction piece. Aware of the way my Sunday mornings were about to open up considering I wouldn’t be running 18 miles, I decided this was finally my year. I was going to participate in NaNoWriMo.
I signed up on the website. I had a randomly-assigned “writing buddy” to support accountability. We mailed each other care packages with notebooks, pens, and snacks to fuel motivation. And then, I sat down… and didn’t write.
Not the first couple days, of course, I was still focused on the marathon. Oh and then those immediate days after the marathon? Well, I was celebrating and relaxing. And then another week went by. And suddenly it was November 15. I was halfway through the month and I hadn’t written a word.
Starting November 1 with a 50,000 word goal means writing, on average 1,667 words a day for 30 days. Starting on November 15 means writing 3,333 words.
I could always try again next year, I thought for a moment.
But where’s the fun in that?
My next two weeks were packed with working and volunteering and lots and lots of writing. After work, I would walk to the Bryant Park Whole Foods and buy a chocolate chip cookie to hold a spot at the bar. I’d spend the remaining hours there, looking out over the park’s Holiday Market and writing my 3,300+ words.
On November 30, I put my final punctuation mark on Tupelo Honey, a labor of love and a piece I haven’t really looked much at since. The intention was not to publish. The intention was hardly even to write well.
The intention was to see what I could do.
What would it look like to again throw myself so sincerely into my craft and to dedicate myself so totally to the thing I claim to want to do with my life? What would it look like to push out the noise and hold myself to an honest commitment? What would it look like to write a novel in 2 weeks?
I’ve been thinking about Tupelo Honey lately as I workshop taking on new projects for my personal writing and for The Smile Project as an organization. And in moments when I’m not sure if I can do it, I think about those November nights at the Whole Foods, breaking my chocolate chip cookie into infinitesimal bites so as to bide my time there without making another purchase.
I think about how it never felt like work. I think about how looking out over the glittering lights of the park, watching the tourists cupping their cocoa, was joy. I think about losing myself for hours at that bar. I think about what it would look like to dedicate myself in that way again.
I think about what it means to just get started. Tupelo Honey would likely need serious work if I ever wanted to pursue publication. The fact that it was written 7 years ago is justification for that. But the experience of starting. The experience of looking a challenge in the eye and rising to the occasion? That’s what I think about when I think of something like NaNoWriMo.
And for that reason, I’ll always be grateful for my gorgeous and messy first experience of writing a novel in 15 days.
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