Happy Halloween, friends!
More Warped Plastic
Wednesday, October 31, 2018
Tuesday, October 30, 2018
Polishing Garbage: A Story About Fearless Writing
Halfway through November 2014, I announced my decision to participate in NaNoWriMo.
If you're unfamiliar with the challenge, let me explain why this was insane: National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) participants aim to write a 50,000-word novel during the month of November. That's roughly two hundred pages, depending on the layout.
I set out to do it in two weeks.
Before you get your hopes up for a story of triumph against impossible odds, I'll say right now that I didn't finish. I actually burned out after a week or so--but only after I spat an impressive 24,271 words onto the page.
Well, more like vomited. Because it was ugly.
To accomplish this herculean writing feat, I sat down in thirty-minute sprints and simply typed the very first words that came to my mind the second they got there--even if they made absolutely zero sense. In some cases, no words came to mind and I just typed to keep my fingers moving. I didn't merely throw caution to the wind; I threw thought out, too.
I gave my story the appropriately-meta title Stream of Consciousness, and it decided it was about a man named Rook, who had worked as a fire juggler at a retirement home before the story's inciting nuclear incident, and a cockroach with survivor's guilt named Carlisle.
Guys, it was bad. Here's just one paragraph:
Some might say I was on something. I say I was trusting my creative instinct, the same way Luke Skywalker turned off his targeting computer and used the Force to blow up the Death Star.
Granted, no would one have ever published my little foray into the Force.
Here's the thing, though:
In those pages and pages of utter garbage, I discovered a world I wanted to explore.
And to this day, Rook and Carlisle remain among my favorite characters. I never saw them coming--in a very real way they broke themselves out of my crazy mass of gray matter--but when I think of that unlikely duo, I can't help but beam with pride. Eventually, I want to go back and team up with a fantastic illustrator (Doug TenNapel, if he's not too busy. Call me, Doug!) to give Rook and Carlisle the graphic novel they deserve.
That writing maxim, "You can't edit a blank page," always brings these characters, this world, to my mind. Their story gave me a ton to edit. Nothing will be safe from my delete button. But there never would have been a story in the first place if I hadn't gotten the words out. No Rook. No Carlisle. No monkey brothels.
If I'd let my fear get in the way, none of that magic would have ever happened.
Will I attempt NaNoWriMo this year? Nobody knows.
But whether or not I officially participate, as NaNoWriMo approaches every November, I recommit to writing fearlessly.
One year that may mean busting out quicker chapters. Another year, it may mean getting up a little earlier each day to get some extra writing time.
Whatever my November looks like, I celebrate writing and what it means to be a writer.
Even the messy parts.
If you're unfamiliar with the challenge, let me explain why this was insane: National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) participants aim to write a 50,000-word novel during the month of November. That's roughly two hundred pages, depending on the layout.
I set out to do it in two weeks.
Before you get your hopes up for a story of triumph against impossible odds, I'll say right now that I didn't finish. I actually burned out after a week or so--but only after I spat an impressive 24,271 words onto the page.
Well, more like vomited. Because it was ugly.
To accomplish this herculean writing feat, I sat down in thirty-minute sprints and simply typed the very first words that came to my mind the second they got there--even if they made absolutely zero sense. In some cases, no words came to mind and I just typed to keep my fingers moving. I didn't merely throw caution to the wind; I threw thought out, too.
I gave my story the appropriately-meta title Stream of Consciousness, and it decided it was about a man named Rook, who had worked as a fire juggler at a retirement home before the story's inciting nuclear incident, and a cockroach with survivor's guilt named Carlisle.
Guys, it was bad. Here's just one paragraph:
Did monkey brothels exist? Rook had heard of them. There were some across the desert, he thought. He’d seen them in books: monkeys serving broth to their brothers while they competed to write lists of words that began with “broth.” He couldn’t imagine a more taxing game on his imagination. Anyone with that kind of creative genius might have been able to save the city, if they’d been patriotic enough to come out of the monkey brothel and pour broth over the fancy computers and make everyone do things their own way.
 |
| I just Googled "monkey brothels" to find out if they really do exist. Don't do it. Image credit: TexansTalk.com |
Some might say I was on something. I say I was trusting my creative instinct, the same way Luke Skywalker turned off his targeting computer and used the Force to blow up the Death Star.
Granted, no would one have ever published my little foray into the Force.
Here's the thing, though:
In those pages and pages of utter garbage, I discovered a world I wanted to explore.
And to this day, Rook and Carlisle remain among my favorite characters. I never saw them coming--in a very real way they broke themselves out of my crazy mass of gray matter--but when I think of that unlikely duo, I can't help but beam with pride. Eventually, I want to go back and team up with a fantastic illustrator (Doug TenNapel, if he's not too busy. Call me, Doug!) to give Rook and Carlisle the graphic novel they deserve.
That writing maxim, "You can't edit a blank page," always brings these characters, this world, to my mind. Their story gave me a ton to edit. Nothing will be safe from my delete button. But there never would have been a story in the first place if I hadn't gotten the words out. No Rook. No Carlisle. No monkey brothels.
If I'd let my fear get in the way, none of that magic would have ever happened.
 |
| Image credit: Textbook & Academic Authors Association |
Will I attempt NaNoWriMo this year? Nobody knows.
But whether or not I officially participate, as NaNoWriMo approaches every November, I recommit to writing fearlessly.
One year that may mean busting out quicker chapters. Another year, it may mean getting up a little earlier each day to get some extra writing time.
Whatever my November looks like, I celebrate writing and what it means to be a writer.
Even the messy parts.
Monday, October 29, 2018
Peculiar People #20
To be honest, people probably just thought they had great missionary costumes. It happens here in Utah sometimes.
More Peculiar People
Wednesday, October 24, 2018
Warped Plastic #39
National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) starts next week! I considered doing it this year, but haven't been able to prepare like I should.
More Warped Plastic
Monday, October 22, 2018
Peculiar People #19
It's one of the Church's oldest puns. I had to use it once!
In other news, my wife and I are officially on baby watch. Our little guy could come today, or he could wait another couple weeks (not likely). In any case, if you see a hiccup in posting, chances are we're either at the hospital or getting settled in to our new routine with four kids. I won't let any lapse last too long, though!
More Peculiar People
Wednesday, October 17, 2018
Monday, October 15, 2018
Wednesday, October 10, 2018
Monday, October 8, 2018
Peculiar People #17
Dieter F. Uchtdorf's statement about being a German shepherd has already become one of the most memed moments of this weekend's General Conference of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I wanted to get in on the joke, too!
You can listen to Elder Uchtdorf's talk here.
More Peculiar People
Wednesday, October 3, 2018
Warped Plastic #36
This week's comic features Josh Wedin, the winner of a recent caption contest on Facebook!
More Warped Plastic
Monday, October 1, 2018
Peculiar People #16
General Conference is this weekend, and I can't wait! Rumors are fun to speculate on, but I hope everyone's preparing spiritually, too. We're in for a treat!
More Peculiar People
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