One of these days, I’ll come up with a better title for what I hope will be an annual blog series, but until then I’ll settle for “Nanowrimo Survival Guide.” Which, I confess, makes me uncomfortable because anything with “survival guide” tagged onto it is generally something very unpleasant and very scary. Like a zombie apocalypse. Or a plague. Or an obligatory trip to a dreaded, cabbage-scented relative. And Nanowrimo is not at all unpleasant or scary. It’s one of the best things in the world. Like pizza & soda. Or lazy Saturday mornings. Or a lifetime supply of sour gummy rings. (AMIRIGHT) I’d argue it’s the best and most epic writing event EVER. And I don’t exaggerate when I say that it has changed my life for the better.
“Survival guide” also seems to imply that I am some sort of authoritative voice on how one should prepare for Nanowrimo—and that one is required to prepare for Nanowrimo months in advance. Which makes me uncomfortable as well because neither are true. I am certainly not an authoritative voice, and Nanowrimo does not require one to do any sort of preparation—although personally, I think some preparation should be done in order to make the most out of the 30-day marathon; but again, that’s just me.
I hope it’s clear by now that I mean “survival guide” in a tongue-in-cheek manner. And really, all I want from this series is for it to be a positive contribution to the Nanowrimo community, and the creative writing community at large. I’ve come to believe that a writer fares best when she is surrounded by a creative community that supports and encourages her, and one of the ways we can build that community is by sharing our experiences with each other.
Basically, if you’re a Wrimo—new or seasoned, it doesn’t matter—and you find anything amongst my ramblings—which will be rolled out every Monday for the next twelve weeks—to be at all useful, I’ll consider this survival guide a success.
And please, do contribute to the conversation. Just keep things constructive, yeah?