unofficially, i decided to partake in the whole nanowrimo thing. unofficially, i say, because i had no desire to sign up on their site. i decided to do this strictly as a personal experiment, and, having finally reached the fifty thousand word goal, my assessment is as follows.
fifty thousand is a lot of words. c’est tout. it’s not a lot of writing, it’s not even a lot of meaning. i’ve told better stories in ten thousand words. more coherent, more thoughtful, and overall more beautiful and telling of the human condition than this fifty thousand word experiment. i also learned far more about myself in writing shorter stories than in spending a couple of hours a day writing an average of two thousand words. the problem with nanowrimo is, when it comes down to it, it’s entirely about word count, and whatever that word count is becomes the value of the project.
but i do like what i’ve written. there are several good beginnings, perhaps even a few plot lines that are cohesive enough to carry through one hundred and seventy five pages, likely more. the characters ended up being very wes anderson meets jonathan safron foer meets charlotte brontë, etc. upon reflection, i think the suppression of my voice is probably this piece’s greatest accomplishment, especially with the third person limited omniscience jumping from one character to the next. everything is about the art, and nothing is recognizable as the artist. unless of course, you happen to know me, and then all sorts of references can be made.
from a process standpoint, the word count was frustrating, but the writing was therapeutic. i managed to keep up with my day job, including a chaotic launch last week, while also making more progress on my paintings this month than in the past few. there’s twelve, they’re huge, and they’re better than anything i’ve done before. i’m blogging more, designing more, becoming more involved in the political and social scenes of seattle. i look forward to continuing on writing projects, though for the process not the product.
