50,000 words in 30 days, that is. In addition to the plenty of papers (and possibly blog posts, instagram captions, and snail mail) I’ll be writing this month, I’m embarking on a 50,000-word journey.
That’s right, this already stressed college student is participating in NaNoWriMo: National Novel Writing Month. Every November, aspiring writers join an online community in an effort to hit that 50,000 mark and complete a novel before the month is up. It’s quite a challenge, but I’m up for it.
I’ve always loved to write, and while I published a book back in high school, I feel like I haven’t done enough. I’m almost twenty years old, and I still haven’t published a full length novel. Younger me would be pretty disappointed I’m not currently walking down red carpets after writing the award-winning script for High School Musical 14. I’m sorry, little Meagan. I hope a novel can make up for my pathetic existence up until now.
How hard can it be to write 50,000 words, anyway?
I intend to find out. Anyway, I’ve got a plot and characters, so I’m on my way. This novel is going to be a probably cliche young adult romance novel, so I’m hoping my awesome love life and romantic experience will come in handy while writing. (That’s complete sarcasm, by the way. I’m totally screwed when it comes to understanding the enigma that is teen romance.) I’m just hoping this foray into the teenage mind will prove semi-accurate despite my lackluster teen experiences.
A novel is made up of three parts: a beginning, a middle, and an end. Sadly, I can’t even begin to write in such a logical way, so I’ll be writing standalone chapters and eventually combining them to form an entire book. And I hope said book will be at least 50,000 words.
I’m incredibly thankful that I’m even able to attempt a project like this. I’ve been blessed with the ability to spin words from my mind to my fingers (though it’s not so easy to get them to come out of my mouth). And my family supports me with crazy ideas like this, too. Back in high school, I told my mom I wanted to publish a book while we were sitting at the dining table eating grilled cheese. She didn’t even flinch.
I told my family today that I was going to try to do this thing, and I wasn’t met with any surprise. In fact, my 14-year-old sister is attempting the same project, so I guess that just shows you what happens when two journalists marry and have children.
Since they are so supportive, I just want to make them proud. So I could use any encouragement you’ve got, because this month might involve more typing than my recently broken (but healed!) pinky can handle.
And so I begin this adventure into the land of letters. Wish me luck.