urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:benotstolidus Orpheus Mac Orpheus Mac 2002-11-03T07:28:33Z urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:benotstolidus:269 2002-11-03T07:28:33Z 2002-11-03T07:28:33Z Meghan H. Young<br />UNLV Rebel Yell<br /><br />Welcome to November: the transition from cool to cold, home of Veteran’s Day and Thanksgiving, and officially National Novel Writing Month. I think the theory is that with the change in weather, the mundanity of having finally fallen into the rhythm of a day-to-day schedule, and the restlessness that accompanies both of these, there would be nothing more perfect than to put all other aspects of life aside for 30 days and sit down to write a novel. <br /><br />Makes perfect sense, right? Okay, maybe not. But the folks at NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month, pronounced nah-no-WRY-moh) dot org figure, what the hell! "Valuing enthusiasm and perseverance over talent and craft," the web-site says, "NaNoWriMo is a novel-writing program for everyone who has thought fleetingly about writing a novel but has been scared away by the time and effort involved." <br /><br />All this is charming. The concept of 30 eternal nights in a row dedicated to creating shitty art is surely a masterpiece of the undergraduate mind, no sarcasm required. In fact, the grimy glamour of nursing four coffee pots per evening, experimenting with No-Doz, and for once disregarding perfection in a sweaty, sleepless quest for a sense of conclusion were exactly the reasons I signed up to complete a 50,000 word (or more) novel in 30 days. <br /><br />Despite the feverish delight I took in this mission, I couldn’t help but think about the sake of the art in this case. The NaNoWriMo kids laugh in the face of "real novelists who dawdle on and on, taking far longer than 30 days to produce their work." But isn’t that sort of the point? Taking time for the ultimate perfection of one’s craft is part of the very essence of being a writer; "dawdling" allows a fine attention to detail. After all, that’s how novels get published; that’s how they get published and made into films, and thus, how writers actually make money. Don’t think Tolkien wrote The Hobbit in 30 days or less. <br /><br />So the eternal argument arises: Which is better? Quality or quantity? NaNoWriMo argues the latter. Theorists for ages have been arguing the former. What, after all, is the point of 10,000 people attempting to write a novel in the space of 30 days if it’s going to turn out terribly? Their characters will be under-developed, the plot will reek of lack of planning and direction, and there will be times in the writer’s insomniac delusions where the plot, characters, or any amount of details will change on a whim and have nothing to do with the rest of the story. Why would anyone read that? <br /><br />Maybe no one will. Maybe each and every novel written during the month of November will be a ludicrous piece of crap. But I think the point of NaNoWriMo is that art, at its very essence, isn’t about the finished product impressing the consumerist masses, but about the process the artist undergoes. The 30 days of high-level stress, winding down into the last week of mad ranting and notes written on napkins, the margins of The Yell, and various body parts are all attributed to the artist’s soul. <br /><br />Dedicating 30 days of my life is my way of, first, forcing myself to get up off my mental ass and put something down on paper, and second, in essence giving something back to the writing community. Will my NaNoWriMo project earn a Nobel Prize for Literature? No. Will it hit the New York Times Bestsellers List? Hell no. But will it earn me the satisfaction of completion and hard work that as a young writer I’ve been craving? <br /><br />Yes. And for this NaNoWriMo kid, that means more to me than all the artistic credit, positive reviews, and compensation in the world. This is art for art’s sake, and there’s something really beautiful about that.