So I thought I wanted to write a novel, but now I’m not so sure. It’s hard work! I stated in my last post that I would be participating in NaNoWriMo, but without an outline or a plot. I’m creating characters, and so far I’ve got six of them and a place called Jay’s Bar and Grille. I’m giving these characters elaborate backgrounds. Two of them even know each other. I like them, and so when I consider giving up on this novel writing thing I feel a bit guilty. I’d be leaving all of these people hanging. I’ve brought them to life; don’t I owe them a story? I think I do.
I’m not going to write 50,000 words by the end of the month. It’s just not going to happen. I don’t have the time. I’m going to try my best to write everyday and finish when I finish.
Why would anyone want to write a novel anyway? I sometimes feel that I’d much rather create visual art. I know that I’d rather be acting. The last time I was on stage acting in a comedy sketch I felt exhilarated. I dance, but I think I’d rather write than dance. So the order is; acting, singing, making visual art, writing, dancing.
Maybe I’m reluctant to want to write a novel because I don’t read enough novels. I don’t read as much as a true write is supposed to read. I do better now that I have a Kindle, but still, I just don’t read all that much.
Here’s the thought. If I do write this novel, I want it to be different. I want it to be groundbreaking, or at least unusual. I want to make a strange and beautiful world. I want to hone my descriptive writing skills. I think it would help if I read more work by writers who are good at description. My novel should have poetry, flowers, color, texture, flavor, aroma. I want a sensory explosion!
You know what? Blogging seems easier since I started NaNoWriMo. Who knew?