We are now mid-way through National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo, as it is known among participants. I know several people who are putting themselve through their paces with this task. I came across interesting commentary in the Las Vegas Mercury, titled Hurry up and write and written by Tod Goldberg. He is not a fan of NaNoWriMo:

The truth of the matter is, I think it’s a bad idea in a general way–you spend 30 days writing crap, as the website advises you probably will, you may well train yourself to accept crap as your standard. And in particular, I find it somewhat insulting that everyone thinks they can write a novel simply because they have the will to do it. Writing is one of the few professions that people off the street feel they can accomplish with little or no training, or talent, in advance–whereas one probably wouldn’t attempt brain surgery without first figuring out how to perform a simple stitch job. In my capacity as a writing teacher, I encounter a lot of bad writing that can be boiled down to a fundamental lack in some regard–the person doesn’t read much fiction, the person doesn’t have a general sense of what makes drama, the person can’t replicate the logic of other humans, thus, all of their characters are flat and cliche–and in many ways that’s all fixable, or at least can be helped, by executing two simple exercises:

1. Read more.

2. Write more, but smaller: a poem, to a story, to a novel.

I agree with him to some extent. However, I think churning out a 50,000 word tale that has a distinct beginning, middle, and end does have benefits:

• It helps a person develop the commitment and discipline of daily writing.
• The critical voices saying “It’s not possible” and “You’re not good enough” are quelled for a time.
• A sense of play is reunited with creativity, something that we sorely need to remember.
• The exercise leads the writer to experience the power of creative energy, and this energy can spill over into different parts of one’s life.

Writing a great novel takes talent and discipline. Moreover, it calls for a passion to tell a story and the stamina to dwell inside one’s creation for hours on end. Not everyone will achieve “greatness.” Yet I’m all for an exercise that encourages us to break the limiting voice of negativity. I encourage endeavors that require us to push ourselves beyond what we think is possible to accomplish. To say “I can,” to try, and to complete the attempt affirms why we are here — to create, to transform, and to be transformed.