Here we are, wrimos, on the final stretch—the very last leg of
the race. And though we are exhausted, we are determined to sprint across the
finish line with all the grace we can muster before we pass out on the grass at
the end of the track. Likewise with our characters. All through this month,
they have fought monsters and obstacles and deadlines of their own. This is
called the RAT—the race against time—and it’s something that most books need.
Usually they have goals with teeth—save the world in twenty minutes or it
burns, become queen or the kingdom breaks apart, save the endangered owls or the
housing development seals their doom.
You have not been immune to this rat race yourself.
December is closing in, bearing with it promises of presents and holiday pounds
and too much pie for anyone’s good. At the beginning of the month, you probably
felt excited. Thirty days can seem an eternity to the hopeful writer’s mind. So
much can happen within that span of time; books can develop and spring to life;
love can begin and end. All of eternity seems encapsulated in this November
collection of moments that has become all yours.
Yet, here and now, looking back at the preceding days,
no doubt you wonder where they have gone, why they have rushed away in such a
flurry of fluttering paper and clacking keys. The potential of time resources
that you foresaw has now been tapped nearly to the fullest. Coffee is scarce.
Nerves are taut. For those of you who celebrate Thanksgiving, schedules are
packed. But if you’re like me, you have so many stories left to tell—not even
half the words in your head have been committed to paper thus far. This month
will end, and it seems that with its demise, the glow of creating will fade,
and life will return to its normal mundane routines locked tightly in the
spinning of the world. All those bright moments in your head will fly off like
faeries once the month is passed. A tough pill to swallow, huh?
December will come and snatch away the thousands more
words that you so wished to write but couldn’t. Your work of genius will sit
abandoned in the dusty archives of your computer—finished or unfinished, it
matters not. The window has passed for fantasies such as these, and it is time
to move on and answer the call of reality. Can’t you already hear the phone
ringing? Perhaps you believe that if you don’t get those words in your head
written down before the close of November, you may never get another chance.
For some, that may encourage you to write like your life depends on it. Because
it does. (That was mostly a lie.) But for others, and sometimes I hold myself
among your group, the fear and the gravity of this reality is enough to freeze
you in your tracks with dread. And while you sit unmoving, time rushes by in
the never ceasing whirlwind of commitments and obligations.
Regardless of where you stand on this matter, November
is almost over. Nothing can change that—not even coffee. Our kitchen is filled
with smoke from my German apple pie, and the strawberry rhubarb is sizzling
nicely. Soon pumpkin bars will join the mix. And the cooking, yeah, it’s eating
my word count. So is blogging. That’s life. The thing is, you’ve worked
yourself hard all month. Now it’s time to relax and enjoy family and these
moments that, like this NaNoWriMo, you will never be able to retrieve or redo
if you miss them the first time.
At this point, you may be asking if this is a pep talk
or a stress talk.
Here’s the crux. No one (at least no one important)
ever said that you couldn’t keep writing after November. Many of you already
plan to. Good on you. Sprint to the finish line—yeah—but the race doesn’t have
to end there. Oh no. After all, you wrote a novel, and I’m sorry to tell you
this (not really), but it’s not over yet. Unfortunately, if your work of genius
is anything like mine, it has a face only a mother could love. You may think
it’s fresh and exciting, but it is probably going to take many drafts and tons
of revisions before anyone else will see it that way.
But in the end, where’s the fun without a challenge?
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