Ok, so some time mid-November, my website was hacked. Right in the middle of NaNoWriMo, at which time I couldn’t be bothered to spend the (what turned out to be) 20 minutes to get it up and running again.
Quick update: I finished NaNoWriMo, 50,012 words, with a few days to spare. I rested on my laurels for a while while my dad and my wife read it, and stoked my recovering ego with their feedback. I’ve taken a few stabs at rewrites and edits, but lately have been spending the time to do what I’ve been avoiding all along — plotting.
I think I naturally lean toward the pantsing side of the “pantsing” (writing by the seat of your pants) vs. “planning” (plan first, write later) spectrum, but having been through this, I have to say planning is really making its case to me. Larry Brooks’website, Dan Wells’ lecture and the method it describes, a flood of advice from Elizabeth S Craig‘s twitter feed — they’re starting to show their benefit. I still have a few heavy months chained to the keyboard before I have a strong full-length draft, but it’s taking shape.
I’ve spent a lot of time (say… my 20s?) trying to sort out what to do with the century (give or take) I have left, and looking back, I feel like I was trying to stall. Looking back to what I loved doing as a kid, what I spent my free time on, what spoke to me most in books and movies, I’m not sure what I was studying for if not writing.
Maybe it’s the allure of nice round numbers, but turning 30 help focus my attention — and I was smart enough not to fight when I saw NaNoWriMo (and writing in general) frantically waving its arms to get my attention.
I believe if we want the kind of future worth living to see, we have to sing it into existence. I know what kind of a world I want to be an old man in. Most of the people I know who feel the same are too busy gardening to tell the story.
I can’t stay silent any longer.
Here I am, clearing my throat.