At this point, you’ve got my NaNoWriMo review, and you’ve got Courtney’s, and if you’re following any other writers’ blogs (as you probably should be), you’ve got a lot more. NaNoWriMo is all about not looking ahead, and not looking back, but just looking right at the blinking cursor at the end of your document. The moment it’s over, though, that all changes.

I finished a book (and a screenplay, and got a good start on another book). Courtney hit 50k early for the first time, but she’s still got to write half that again to get to “The End.” My dad got a couple thousand words in before a long-malingering home renovation demanded all his free time, so he’s postponed his personal NaNoWriMo to January.

So where are you? One of the most important parts of NaNoWriMo is getting to the end of it (no matter where you end up), and then investing a little time to really take stock.

Getting to the End

NaNoWriMo has two dark secrets that we try really hard not to talk about during the month of November. The first is unarguably a positive one, but it can be inconveniently positive. It goes like this:

Whether or not you hit 50k, if you got a lot of writing done in November that’s something worth celebrating.

If you focus on that during November, it’s really easy to back off the intensity and let the month get away from you. So those veterans among us, even though we know it deep in our hearts, we try to keep it unspoken and maybe distract the novices so they never think it through. Because, of course, getting more words is always better. And getting those last two is best.

In the long run, though, it doesn’t matter. There’s nothing magical about November 30. If you got 5,000 words written in November, you’ve got a solid chapter or two and a real foundation for a book. If you got 500 words, you’ve got a scene. You’ve got a starting spot.

It’s not a good idea to be satisfied with that. As I said over the course of the last month, if you really want to be a writer you’ve got to get to “The End.” But no matter what your final word count was, everything you did in November got you closer to that.

Take stock, figure out what worked for you and what didn’t — what stumbling blocks kept you from following through on your commitment — then develop a plan for handling them and dive right back in.

Getting Right Back In

And that brings us around to NaNoWriMo’s other dirty secret:

Whether or not you hit 50k, you’re not done.

I mean, maybe you are. Maybe your only goal in life was to win a NaNoWriMo. For most of us, though, NaNoWriMo is just a single event within a much larger journey.

If you really want to be a writer, the end of November isn’t any kind of end at all. It doesn’t matter if you got to 50k in 30 days. It doesn’t matter if you got there early. It doesn’t even matter if you got to “The End.”  No matter any of that, it’s time to take stock, figure out where you are…and get right back to work.

I wrote “The End” on a novel. I even got in a first revision of it. I wrote nearly 97,000 words in November spread across four creative projects, and you know what? December’s going to demand that I do at least half that just to keep up. November’s certainly a spike for me, but it’s by no means the only time I’m working.

Being a Writer

If that sounds depressing to you, you’re in the wrong line of work. If it sounds like I’m being overly negative…you’re probably absolutely right.

I genuinely celebrated the end of NaNoWriMo. And November is something special. Winning NaNoWriMo is a major accomplishment, and it’s worth taking some time to reward yourself if you managed it.

Writing a rough draft is only part of the process, though. If you got to “The End,” you’ve still got a long way to go. The good news is, the rest is fun. The good news is, now you get to write something beautiful and admirable.

And when you’re done, you get to start all over from scratch. If that sounds depressing, you’re in the wrong line of work. To me, it sounds like endless opportunities to do what I love.

November’s finally at an end. So far I’ve loved every NaNoWriMo I’ve participated in, and I’ve been intensely grateful when each one of them ended. It’s part of the process.

I had a good year in 2010. That sentence is true all on its own, but I mean it here particularly as a comment on NaNoWriMo. I had a good November.

The month started with distractions for me. I spent the whole month fielding questions and getting feedback on my newly-released novel, and it was a real challenge for me to step away from that and just let it run.

It did well for me: with virtually no promotion on my part, I had 40 sales in November. That’s not enough to retire on, but it’s an impressive start for a book with such limited advertising. I plan to hit that aspect hard in the next two months, culminating in the publication of the sequel late in February which should generate some serious additional sales.

Ahem. I…didn’t really mean to go into all that, but it’s an excellent example of the situation I was facing. I’ve been thinking about these things, and answering questions, and signing copies, and all of that takes focus away from the current project.

At the same time, the most common question I got was, “When’s the sequel coming out?” Everyone’s excited to read more in the Katie Pratt saga, and that constant reminder motivated me to keep working on it.

Over the course of the month, I mentioned schoolwork distractions. I had four books to read and review for my Category Fiction class, including one that needed a fifteen-page paper. I also had to finish writing a feature-length screenplay for my other course, which required over 40 pages of script during November alone.

Then there were my own distractions: Seatac and The Girl Who Stayed the Same — both of them books that I’d started and set aside because I ran out of steam, but suddenly they were all I wanted to work on.

And let’s not forget Unstressed Syllables! I had a commitment here, too, and that was a real challenge even after paring down my posting schedule back in October. Ever the dedicated guide, I led by example and put all other commitments behind my NaNoWriMo project throughout the month of November. You saw some posts late, you saw some posts half-edited, and at every step of the way, you knew I was working.

I was working. I hit 50,000 words and officially “won” NaNoWriMo on November 20. I kept working, hoping to get the book finished before heading to my parents’ place in Arkansas for Thanksgiving. I took a break to finish the adaptation of Dad’s novel, though, so I could share it with him while we were there.

So I finished that on Wednesday the 24th, and then finished my book (at 70,314 words) on Thanksgiving morning. I took 30 hours or so off to hang out with family, then we drove home and I dove right back in.

I wrote another ten pages on Seatac, and I’m ready to keep right on rolling with that one. I also completed my first full review of the novel over the weekend, reworking some minor scenes, adding in critical info I’d forgotten, and tweaking character names for clarity. I caught a couple typos, too, but I’m sure there are still hundreds waiting to be found.

It was, as always, a grand adventure. And, like always, it’s just the beginning.

This week I shared a story of a major writing setback when I outran my own scene list. I’ve also told stories before about losing pages, chapters, books.

The writer’s life is tragedy. Partly, that’s because of the unpredictable nature of the process. Mostly, it’s because writers spend so much of their time wallowing in melodrama, but don’t tell them I said that.

Honestly, the saddest thing about the writing experience isn’t ever the lost time and energy that make up so many of the tragic stories. It’s something far more common, part of the process itself, and it’s virtually impossible to escape.

Wanting Not to Write

One of the newer guys in my writing group asked us veterans a question midway through NaNoWriMo this year. He said, after all this talk of “week two slumps” and “week three slumps,” that he didn’t really have weekly slumps.

Instead, he said,

I sorta have a daily slump where I’d rather be doing anything but writing during my writing time. But then, once I actually sit down and do some writing, the words come fairly easily. But woe betide me if I stop once I’ve got that flow, even for fifteen minutes, because then I’m right back to slump. Weird or not?

Not, was our consensus. In fact, I asked his permission to share the question here because I think it’s an incredibly common phenomenon. It reminded me right away of a quote I saw on Twitter last week:

A writer is a person for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people. ~Thomas Mann

It’s the biggest frustration of every writer I know. We all want to write. Sometimes we live to write. But the moment we sit down to actually get some writing done, we desperately want to do absolutely anything else.

Recognizing Writers

If you’re not a writer, that might seem hard to understand. Maybe even difficult to believe. It’s remarkably consistent, though.

As a matter of fact, I’d go so far as to say the only thing that separates a “real writer” from everyone else is the ability to write anyway, even when they don’t want to. That’s it.

It’s tempting to throw in some amount of respect for basic rules of grammar, an understanding of communications theory, or maybe long practice in the fundamentals of style, but all of those things vary wildly from one writer to another with no real relationship to productivity or quality.

The one core, crucial characteristic of every good writer out there is the ability to write anyway. To get to “The End.”

That’s what I love most about NaNoWriMo. It’s a free four-week course, open to the public, on what it really takes to be a writer. At the end of November, whether you accomplish anything or not, you know.

Dealing with Distraction

The most important thing to take away from this, if you’re a new writer, is that this struggle is completely normal. It feels like a deep-down betrayal (every time), but you have to recognize it for what it is — a shying away from the monumental challenge that is “writing a book.”

Even a bad book. Even a short book. Even a rushed book. Even a twelfth book. It doesn’t matter who you are or where you are in your career, writing a book is terrifying, and your body will do everything in its power to convince you to run the other way.

It doesn’t mean you’re not cut out to be a writer. It means, just like the guy in my writing group, you need to start looking for some tricks to help you deal with the distractions.

I’ve found a handful of things that help, and I plan to share them with you tomorrow. In the meantime, if you’ve got your own tricks, why don’t you post ’em in the comments? NaNoWriMo is almost over, and we all need all the help we can get.

I’m a big believer in prewriting. I design my stories, building them with care before I even start writing.

Somebody once said even the best battle plan only lasts until the first shot is fired (or something to that effect). It certainly applies to writing. Stories change in the telling. It’s just part of the process.

Last week I suggested reviewing your prewriting if you haven’t. I usually review mine almost daily, before (and sometimes immediately after) any given writing session. It’s a constant tinkering, and though I know that leeches away some precious moments I could be spending on new material, it makes my overall writing process a lot smoother.

Often. Usually. Almost always.

Except…well, Sunday night it failed me.

Courtney’s been giving her NaNoWriMo updates here on the site, but I’ve been limiting mine to tweets and spreadsheet updates that only my little writing group can see. Still, I should give a little bit of background by way of context.

So picture this: It’s Sunday afternoon, and I’m coming off a week of just blazing through my novel. It’s the fourth in the series, and there are times when I’m thinking, “This is going to be the best one yet!”

I’ve got a gunfight that’s just killer, I finally engage with some deep philosophical questions I know my readers have been asking since book one, and I’m finally letting Katie off the chain. She’s an all-out warrior princess in this one. She doesn’t need any stinkin’ man to rescue her.

It was a little slow getting started, but by the time I hit the first plot point I was rolling, and I’ve only accelerated from there. Friday I wrote 10,000 words. Friday. I mentioned that to my writing group, and they kicked me out.

Saturday I hit 50,000 words at 11:00 in the morning, and by the end of the day I was nearly done with chapter 11 (of 15). Instead of finishing it off, I chose to watch a movie and chat with a friend. No need to rush it, right? Smooth sailing from here on out.

So Sunday I slept in, then church with the family, went out to a nice lunch, worked on the finances with Trish, and watched a Cowboys game that had me cheering. Then I slipped off to the office to finish up chapter 11 before dinner, and a whole evening set aside afterward to write a good chunk of chapter 12.

Chapter 11 gave up the ghost, easily enough. I already had Katie caught up in a conversation with the evil villain, and his personality just writes pages. As long as I can get him on camera, the book writes itself. So he menaced and Katie calculated, and just like that 11 was done.

I sat back, victorious. I updated my word count. I checked to make sure chapter 11 ended up long enough (I always do that). Then I realized I still had a few minutes left before dinner, so I decided to get a head start.

I started a new line at the end of my document. I type, “12.” And then I realized I’d forgotten my chapter title for 12. No problem there. I just clicked over to the Google Docs tab with my scene list in it, and scrolled down to chapter 12. “Identity Cult.” Ooh…cool.

But then I glanced at the description of what needed to happen in the chapter. It was mainly a long conversation between Katie and her partner, Nancy Drew stuff, figuring out what was really going on, and tracking down some suspects.

It was like a punch to the gut, because I’d already written that whole conversation. It took up something like the fourth through the eighth pages of my chapter 11. I scrolled on down to chapter 13, and that was pretty much pages ten to fifteen. It was all written. In fact, the conversation with the villain was supposed to be the opening scene of chapter 14.

In one day’s work, I’d robbed myself of two whole chapters. I sat there, stunned, until Trish called me in for dinner. I told her the whole story — my voice sounding numb and flat to my own ears — and spent dinner trying to figure out how I was going to fix it.

The problem was, it worked. The conversation worked well as it was, one chapter long, and I strongly suspected it would have gotten extremely slow and tedious if I’d actually dragged it out for fifty pages as I’d originally intended. So I didn’t want to go back to my original plan, but now I didn’t have enough material left to fill up my book.

I found myself completely stuck. Lost. I spent about half an hour cursing. I took AB to pick up some ice cream since I didn’t have anything to write, and I spent the whole drive talking through the story with her. (It’s a violent technothriller and she’s a three-year-old girl, so as brainstorming sessions go, it wasn’t the most useful.)

I got back home and watched some TV with Trish, helped put the kids to bed, and then I went to the office to see what I could salvage.

In the end, I worked on my scene list. Just like I recommended last Friday. I set aside my novel, and spent every minute of the evening’s writing session patching up my broken prewriting. I ended up writing over 4,000 words in that document, and not a single one in chapter 12.

That’s okay, though. It’s fixed now. I’ve got somewhere to go, and plenty of time to get there. I’ve got a whole new third act, and it’s better than ever.

The writing process is a strange one. It’s an unpredictable adventure, no matter how long you pursue it. Sometimes it’s agonizing, sometimes it’s glorious, but it’s always got a few surprises in store.

I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Yesterday we talked about the slow process of writing a book in a hurry. About achieving something great six months from now by doing something pathetic and tedious today.

National Novel Writing Month is a crash course in precisely that process. It’s something on the order of 20+ days of pathetic and tedious, crammed into a 30-day span.

That may not sound like  much of a sales pitch, but the upshot is this: you get to have a book. You get to finish your novel.

Getting Properly Prepared

Before I get into today’s topic, there’s something I need to say loud and clear:

NaNoWriMo is all about writing your story — not thinking about your story, not figuring out your story, not working on your story, but writing your story.

That’s what yesterday’s article was all about. To return to this week’s metaphor, NaNoWriMo make you get your butt in gear and go for a jog. It’s never enough to just sit around and think about fitness.

Like everything in life, though, it’s always a matter of balance. I mentioned before that I have trouble finding time in my day to run, and that drives me crazy. Knowing how much benefit I could get from it, how can it possibly be so difficult to find 45 minutes to run around my neighborhood?

Part of the problem is perspective. Before I can just “get my butt in gear and go for a jog,” I’ve got to change into my workout clothes, put on my running shoes, track down some headphones, do my stretches, and then probably start out with a little warmup.

Then I can go for a 45-minute run, but by then I’ve probably spent 20-30 minutes getting ready. By the time I get home and clean up and change back into normal clothes, my 45-minute jog can use up anywhere from ninety minutes to two hours.

Maintaining Your Prewriting

Writing can absolutely be the same way. If you sprint into a scene, stiff and wearing your work clothes (metaphorically speaking), you’re probably not going to get too far. The good news is that if you’ve been following along, you’ve at least got your running gear. That’s the first step, and that’s what we spent October doing.

Your prewriting is your novel’s supporting material. It’s what lets you move with confidence and handle the obstacles along the way. That’s why we spent the time to make it in the first place, and it’s why it’s worth putting in some extra time now around your writing time to keep it all in working order.

It’s not enough to have it. You’ve got to remember to use it. Maybe you have been all along, but if it’s been a month since you last looked at your character descriptions, go back and give them a quick read. You’ll probably find some surprises in there.

Some of it will be wrong — your character has probably grown in some surprising ways over the last few weeks — but other pieces of it will impress you. You’ll find insights you didn’t know you’d had. You’ll discover that some seemingly random things your characters did were actually driven by choices you made (and forgot) a long time ago. And chances are good you’ll find at least one thing you left out that would add some spice (and a good number of words) to the scene you’re working on right now.

The same goes for all the documents we put together last month. If it’s been two chapters since you last checked your scene list, go back and review it. You might be surprised how devious your plot can be, as it picks and chooses it own path.

Waste Some Words (Creative Writing Exercise)

If you’re any kind of a NaNoWriMo legalist, you can’t count prewriting words in your 50,000, but as I said yesterday everything you do helps. Every moment you spend working on your story (even if it’s not writing your story) helps you get more accomplished when you are writing.

If you’re having trouble on your sprints, struggling to make real progress day-to-day, you might need to update your support material. Spend a few minutes glancing over those old documents, and see what they have to tell you.

Now, if you’re way behind (I’d say more than 5,000 words or so behind your goal), last week’s writing exercise still has more to offer. Find time for some 6k days, just to get caught up.

But if you’re in striking range — if you’re actually hitting your target word count, but maybe every writing session feels like pulling teeth — it might just be because you’re writing unprepared. Sometimes all it takes to get flying again is an hour (or a day) reworking your prewriting. Give it a try.