So here we are. A fell wind whistles across the plain. It’s a scary time. I am quaking in my boots. Except i’m actually barefoot in my office listening to the Beatles on my Dan Fogelburg inspired pandora page. And i’m not actually quaking. I’m calm and relaxed and full of happy anticipation. I’ve already set up the scrivener project, i’ve got a bit of outline all roughed out. I’ve got my initial cover done. It’s all over but the shouting.
And boy… there’s enough shouting.
My head has been just running ragged with all of the stuff i want to throw in this little novel. It’s been multiplying rapidly. I’m not sure where i’m going to put all of it but i’m pretty excited. So I think, for this little blog post, i’ll just spend a moment telling you all what i’ll be working on.
The whole thing started when my friends kids asked me if i was a real writer. Here’s the thing about that question. There is no answer. I’m sure if you ever asked Ernest Hemingway if he was a real writer he would look at you boggle eyed, his gin and tonic halfway to his mouth and his eyes widening. ‘Real compared to what, exactly?’ Would most likely be the first thing that crossed his suddenly panicked mind. It was for me. But when you have two children asking that question, it sort of demands some sort of answer. So i said sure. Thankfully, their mom agreed. And then i said i’d write them a book. The events in question might be a little out of order but that’s basically the gist of it.
It’s always best when you find someone to write for. I know a lot of people say they write for themselves and that’s great and all when you’re younger and voiceless and being picked on and you believe (with some very real justification) that no one gives a hoot about your words. But the older you get – i hope – the more you’ll realize that writing works better, and you want to do it better, when you have people you want to write for.
I told them i would write them a story. They would have to come up with the basics of the story. Which is where i’m at right now and that’s another thing i would tell the prospective writers of the world. If someone throws a pitch, swing at it. My first five books – The Meg Brown Mysteries which are now on their sixth book and the seventh was last years nano project – were based on a suggestion from a friend on her way back to California. You never know where this stuff is going to end up and frankly, it takes a bit of the plotting out of your hands and gets your brain working on just HOW you’re going to do it.
Their idea, naturally, consisted of a bunch of characters who just happened to have the names of all their friends. And they suggested that they were all animals. They gave me the types of animals and all the names. They wanted some sort of crime to be solved (which, frankly, i’m still working on. I’m used to murder and violent death which, for a kids novel, is not exactly right on.)
From the bare bones of their ideas came the story of Lola, a young girl and the adventures of her friends Mia who is a Cheetah, Emily a Dolphin, and Ashley A Hawk. I even started writing it in a first chapter but it really didn’t work out well. Who knows? It still may not work out well. I have never written for kids before, but that’s just the thing. It’s a challenge and i’m now really looking forward to the plot and writing this little thing. There’s tons of charming little magic bits in it, pixies, faeries, a whale that lives in a maintenance shed, and a zoo.
It’s going to be fun. And that’s what this is all about. Sure. It’s also about getting the words out and putting that novel on paper but its also about turning off the world for a little while and just enjoying the ripe produce of your own brain.
And here’s the other thing about Nano – it’s gone global. In my auspices of an admin on a Nanowrimo Facebook page i’ve admitted people from all over the world who are participating. So people might whine and cry about the sorry state of literature as a direct response to Nano but to heck with those people. To me, and i’ve said this before, Nano is football. Not American football that requires thousands of dollars just to suit up, but the real European grab-a-ball-and-some-friends sort of football. It’s a november holiday for writers, for doing something a little crazy and a little beautiful and sharing the experience with people all over the world. Are we all going to be published geniuses worshipped for our wit and brilliance? Probably not. But for one month, we brave few – we happy few – get to have a collective breath of literary abandon. We get to shuck off the festering rind of an all too awful world and create the means of that worlds hopeful beautification.
Nano isn’t going to save the world, but here’s the little secret that all nanos know: so many more worlds get saved in November than most people ever know.