Why I Love NaNoWriMo

As November drew to a close, I got thinking on the idea of NaNoWriMo—the very popular organization that facilitates writing a novel (50,000 words) in a month.

It takes the literary world by storm, thousands and thousands of authors, some published, others teens trying their hand at novels for the very first time, sitting down to work on their NaNo novel. And amidst all of the buzz, I found myself reflecting on it.

I've been participating in NaNo for years now, and every time November begins, I giddily plan and write until my wrists ache.

However, I'm going to let you in on a little secret: I almost never win. I've had years where I rocket through the word count in the first three weeks, but most of the time, I don't even reach the 50,000 words. So why do I do it, year after year, knowing I likely will get busy and fall short of the word count?

There are a few reasons:

First and foremost, it is a prompt to write. Even if you won't get to the 50,000 words, even if you barely write 2,000 that month, it gets your creative juices flowing, lets ideas begin marinating, and forces you to sit down at your computer and at least try.

And in my experience with writing, that is almost 80% of the process. Once you're on that creative wave, once you have the words flowing, the rest is easy. And having something to get you over that hurdle, something that gives you a specific reason to write, is incredibly helpful in getting those words going.

Many of my favorite pieces have come out of NaNo projects that, though bad when I first wrote them one cold November night, had kernels in them that were golden and spawned a beautiful story.

Second, a community of writers come together for NaNo in ways they rarely do other times. When you're doing NaNo, you're doing what writers across the world are doing, and the energy that comes from that, the community that is raised, is a feeling that will get you motivated and inspired unlike anything else in my experience.

To have that scaffolding, that backing of writers who are doing what you are and want you to succeed just as bad as you do is unique and something to be treasured. It's rare in an industry like ours to find so much love and support, and getting to see that has been fulfilling in ways I never expected it to.

Third, it reminds me how to be creative. I know, it sounds dumb, seeing as I write consistently, but as writers, we can become pageblind; we can forget the process, forget how organic it is, and fall into the syntax and the characters of the one idea we are working with. It's easy to lose inspiration and to stop mining for ideas, and NaNo helps me get out of that.

In October of every year, when I know it's time to start planning for my November novel, having to dig up ideas, draw on the events of the past year of my life for inspiration, and piece together a new story so quickly, I remember what it is to be creative; I remember that creative high. And during NaNo, if you hit a hitch in your novel, you must work around the issue to finish on time, rather than put off that plot issue or character fault. Working so quickly, being forced to confront these things, reminds me how to be creative, and it consistently re-teaches me why I love what I do so much.

So despite the fact that I know I likely won't win, every year when November rolls around, I sit down begin writing my NaNo novel, because even if what I produce is messy and unfinished and beneath the word count, it's something, and the experience every time makes it beyond worth it.