Reprinted with permission from the blog of Evelyn Krieger
When I became a mother, I couldn’t wait for all the things I would teach my kids.
I wanted to introduce them to music, dance, and art. I wanted them to have happy associations with Jewish observance. I wanted to inspire them to be lifelong learners and book lovers.
What I didn’t expect was how much my kids would teach and inspire me. My oldest daughter encouraged me to write a children’s novel which resulted in an award-winning book.
My son continues to inspire me to not “sweat the small stuff” and to stay positive.
My youngest daughter taught me to trust that she is learning, even though she is not in a traditional school. Lately, she has been a beacon of light as I crawl through the tunnel of discouragement regarding my second novel attempt. She understands my battle with perfectionism, and fortunately, does not seem to suffer from that condition.
“You need to try NaNoWriMo” she told me.
She was referring to National Novel Writing Month. Every November thousands of aspiring writers sign on to the project website. Their goal: write a quick first draft of a novel–in a month. That’s 50,000 words in 30 days! Of course, not everyone succeeds but the process itself is valuable–so they say.
“It’s all about silencing your inner critic. At least for a month,” Audrey tells me, fully aware of my nemesis.
Audrey has participated in the Youth Division for the past few years. She enjoyed the pep talks, the writing forums, and the rush of seeing her word count rise.
While I enthusiastically supported her participation, NaNoWriMo sounded like torture to me. I had several reasons for not signing on.
l. I’ve already written a novel.
2. I’m not a fast writer.
3. I hate writing a big long mess.
4. November is a very busy month.
5. I have other writing contests to work on.
6. I could never win.
7. Did I mention that I could never write 50,000 words in a month?
You get the idea.
Of course, Audrey has a counter argument for each of my arguments. “What have you go to lose?” she finally huffed, after I stubbornly clung to my excuses.
I was reminded of my father. Growing up, I suffered from a lot of worry. Whether is was speaking in front of the class or trying something new, my anxiety would get in the way.
“What’s the worst thing that can happen,” my father would ask.
Which, today, inspired me to ask myself: What’s the worst thing that could happen by committing myself to NaNoWriMo?
Answer: 1. I write a bunch of garbage. 2. I don’t reach the goal.
Hmm. Not the end of the world by any means.
Then I suddenly thought of another question. What’s the best thing that might happen?
Answer. 1. I get back on track with the story I want to write. Even better: 2. I get in the flow and churn out a rough draft that gives me something to work on.
I hesitated to the last minute. I thought about being a role model for my writing workshop students (whom I encouraged to enter the Young Writers NaNoWriMo).
So I took the plunge and registered. This is my public announcement.
“Oy, “I’ll never write 50,000 words,” I said to Audrey immediately afterward.
“Okay. I take it back.”
The next day I got the first NaNoWriMo pep talk in my inbox. It was from award-winning YA author, Rainbow Rowell.
Wow, she was describing my every thought regarding National Novel Writing Month. Here’s an excerpt from her most excellent post.
I was very skeptical about NaNoWriMo at first.
It seemed like something that amateur writers would do. Or young writers. People who needed to be tricked into finishing their books. I’d already written two books by October 2011, and sold them to publishers, and I couldn’t imagine writing either of them—or anything good—in a month.
That’s not writing, I thought, that’s just piling up words. But then I thought about how wonderful it would be to have a pile of 50,000 words…
And guess what? Ms. Rowell’s NaNoWriMo first draft ended up becoming her recently published novel, Fangirl.
Her words hit my motivation button. Time to get writing. Fast!
How do your children inspire you? Are you a NaNoWriMo participant?