Much to the amusement / dismay of my other half I’ve decided to write a novel in November. Inspired by antonvowl, the idea appeals to me, mainly because I find November one of the most pointless months. Frankly I’m amazed it survived the Tories’ Comprehensive Spending Review.
The way it works is you sign up to this website and pledge to complete a 50,000 word novel by the end of the month. This works out to 1,667 words per day, which sounds easy enough. You can update your wordcount as you go, and post excerpts if you’re that way inclined. Presumably there are people out there willing to read them.
There are also meet-ups taking place all over the world, where you can awkwardly meet other aspirant writers in public places and write your novel near them. I might be up for this. I’ve been meeting strangers off the internet since 1997.
In a stunning break with tradition, my plan for the novel is to not have any plan. I’m going to try not to think about it at all, and then to simply start writing on Monday 1st November and see what happens. I’m slightly scared: will the process unlock subconscious yearnings? Will it turn out I’m really shit at writing? Will Geoff be involved in the plot somehow? At the moment I don’t know and I don’t want to know, but come the start of next month it will all flood out and form itself into a carefully plotted and well paced page-turner just in time for the Christmas market.
Who’s with me?