Camp NaNoWriMo - A Pep Talk
And this is one of the reasons I love doing NaNoWriMo. This lovely letter was sitting in my inbox waiting for me. Today has gone so slowly. I still have less than 400 words and it's 6:oo pm. ( sometimes I really hate my muse. ) This was just what I needed to hear....
Spelunking into Your Novel
I was sitting at my desk yesterday pondering all the things I wanted to share with you as you embark upon this month-long noveling adventure. I happened to be eating some leftover chocolate from last year's Night of Writing Dangerously-Dove, wrapped in foil with a little message inside. And my message said, "Tempt your sense of exploration."
I realized two things: that chocolate is always the answer, and that this is exactly what you are doing this month. Expanding the notion of exploration in your life. Sure, you are sitting comfortably at your computer at home, or in a local coffee shop, or in a tent fort in your backyard. But you are also embarking on a journey deep into your imagination, through never-before-seen realms of your as-yet-unwritten novel.
No one else can see the journey you're going on-to any passersby, it looks like you are typing madly while drinking a hot beverage out of a camp tin. But you and I know that there are new characters afoot; plots unfolding (or crumbling in spectacular fashion); whole worlds being constructed, blown up with glee, and then rebuilt again.
Over the past few days, I've noticed a number of Campers on Twitter noting their anxiety (or outright trepidation) at their lack of plot or direction for this novel they're supposed to be writing over the next 30 days.
And it is scary! Like entering a dark cave with only the thin beam from your flashlight to guide you.
Hold fast to your flashlight, Camper. That keen beam is your conviction that you have a story to tell. It will cut through the dark and reveal the novel that awaits you in the pitch black cave of your imagination.
I applaud you for embracing your story and taking up this noveling challenge. This is brave stuff you're doing, charting the territories of a new novel. Brave, and necessary.
Take up that flashlight (oh, and this foil-wrapped chocolate) and lets go find your novel!
Lindsey
Camp Director
Spelunking into Your Novel
I was sitting at my desk yesterday pondering all the things I wanted to share with you as you embark upon this month-long noveling adventure. I happened to be eating some leftover chocolate from last year's Night of Writing Dangerously-Dove, wrapped in foil with a little message inside. And my message said, "Tempt your sense of exploration."
I realized two things: that chocolate is always the answer, and that this is exactly what you are doing this month. Expanding the notion of exploration in your life. Sure, you are sitting comfortably at your computer at home, or in a local coffee shop, or in a tent fort in your backyard. But you are also embarking on a journey deep into your imagination, through never-before-seen realms of your as-yet-unwritten novel.
No one else can see the journey you're going on-to any passersby, it looks like you are typing madly while drinking a hot beverage out of a camp tin. But you and I know that there are new characters afoot; plots unfolding (or crumbling in spectacular fashion); whole worlds being constructed, blown up with glee, and then rebuilt again.
Over the past few days, I've noticed a number of Campers on Twitter noting their anxiety (or outright trepidation) at their lack of plot or direction for this novel they're supposed to be writing over the next 30 days.
And it is scary! Like entering a dark cave with only the thin beam from your flashlight to guide you.
Hold fast to your flashlight, Camper. That keen beam is your conviction that you have a story to tell. It will cut through the dark and reveal the novel that awaits you in the pitch black cave of your imagination.
I applaud you for embracing your story and taking up this noveling challenge. This is brave stuff you're doing, charting the territories of a new novel. Brave, and necessary.
Take up that flashlight (oh, and this foil-wrapped chocolate) and lets go find your novel!
Lindsey
Camp Director