Fast Fiction

I like to think of myself as a sidelines person, mostly because I know I’m a control freak and would probably try to dominate anything that I get involved with. But here it is, the middle of November and I am again Municipal Liaison for Los Angeles for National Novel Writing Month.

Perhaps I’ve embraced the ideals of NaNoWriMo a little too whole-heartedly or perhaps I’ve just appointed myself a vehment disciple or knighted myself, or perhaps I’m just angling for a fight.

What am I talking about? Rules. The rules for the damn challenge.

I think I’m a purist at heart. In all things. I don’t like hybridized things (well, except my new car, but that’s another story). If you’re going to bake a cake, make it a real cake with sugar and flour and all that, because making something out of soy and apple peels is not the same thing, it’s a valid thing, but I don’t consider it a cake.

I think NaNoWriMo should be preserved in all its purity. Write a novel of at least 50,000 words in one month. Period. A pure work from your own mind within the month of November. Sure, your idea comes from somewhere, something that may have happened to you, or an idea sparked by a painting or a cartoon, but it should be something you create.

I’ve taken it upon myself to spread this message on the NaNoWriMo Forums. Not in an evangelistic way - I don’t go inserting myself into every conversation saying that folks are not following the rules. I just hang out in a little poorly traveled corner and hope to answer questions.

Sure, I probably come off sounding like a have some sort of exclusionist view or superior attitude. But they asked, didn’t they? Who did they think would answer.

Anyway, my rules for writing a novel in a month. The novel must be started and finished within the month of November. No pre-writing (I had character names and a map of Ireland from the middle ages as reference). No picking up an unfinished work. No stopping at 50,000 words. That’s right, the story must come to some sort of conclusion - no matter how hastily and awkwardly tacked on, it will end.

Now is that so hard?