Six Hundred Sixty Six Bottles of Blood on the Wall: It’s NaNoWriMo Time!
Though I should be working on my novel, I wanted to take a quick break and write a little bit about writing because, well, that’s fucking productive. I’m a procrastinator at heart, but I’d like to get this out there.
For those of you that don’t know November is National Write a Novel in a Month Month or something. Check it out www.nanowrimo.org. Add me as a writer buddy if you like I think my username is kerrygslipp but I haven’t quite figured that part out yet.
Anyway, the goal is to write 50,000 words toward a novel in one month. You can track your progress at the website. It’s a pretty cool thing. It equates to roughly 1,666 words per day. (That’s a pretty number ain’t it?)
I took the challenge last year and got to about 44,000 words. I quit at the end to rush a few short stories for publication. One of those shorts is still rotting on my hard drive, the other, “The Guts of a Coward” turned out pretty good and landed me a spot in The Best of Cruentus Libri Press anthology. Get it now, by the way, Cruentus is saying goodbye and pulling their books from Amazon in early 2014. Get that shit now!!!
I never went back to that novel that I’d started. I think I realized that though I was 44k words in, it would take another 44k to finish a first draft. That’s a bit discouraging. I would however, love to dig it out one of these days. There’s some cool shit in there if I remember right. I thought about finishing it this year for nanowrimo but I didn’t.
I actually wasn’t planning on doing nanowrimo at all until I saw a bunch of my friends posting about it on Facebook. I also got about 4 personal messages asking me what I was going to start. I had a loose idea for a novel I wanted to write someday. So my snap decision to do nanowrimo started with the two words that usually accompany most of my decisions in life.
But I decided 3 things.
- that no matter what, I’d hit 50,000 words this time. (I know you’ve heard this from me before blah blah blah)
- That before I even wrote my name on the paper, I’d blow my inner critic’s brains out. That guy is an asshole.
- That I’d have fun with it
Number three bears elaborating on. But Squidman, you always have fun when you write don’t you? No. I don’t. I try to, but sometimes it’s impossible. And let me tell you why.
Like most of you, I often write toward markets. I skim HT or some other places or get invitations or whatever and even if it’s open themed, I’m always writing toward a market. “2-4 thousand words with no religious satire or overtly sexual themes or violence used for shock value.”
Fuck you. I don’t even know what that means.
Don’t get me wrong, there’s a time and a place for everything, but I’ve just felt like some of the fun has gone out of it as my writing is now hinging on acceptance or rejection by the open calls. I don’t like that I’ve fallen into that trap.
Sure I want to get published as much as the next guy, but I’m taking a break from that shit for November.
I’m going back to my roots. I’m just going to play.
I know that there is about a negative zero percent change of this novel I’m working EVER getting published or being seen by anyone but me. So to make sure that I actually complete my goal and finish a longer work, I’m just going to have the most fucking fun I can possibly have without taboos. (And yes that may or may not include: constant swearing, a conversational tone, tongue in cheek, rape, sexual violence, mutilations, gangbangs, cannibalism, religious fanatics, dick jokes, prostitution, drug use, underage sex, and maybe even video taping all of this shit for sale on ebay)
Christ, I used the C-word 27 times in one chapter, just because I could. The cool thing is, once this is finished, I do think it will all or at least most of it WORK, because that’s the attitude I’m taking into writing it.
I don’t want to talk about my idea because I think it’s a good one and I’ve never seen it done before, and god forbid this actually turns out salvageable, I don’t want to get myself fucked, except maybe by one of my main characters, she’s a tigress.
But suffice it to say that I started with this title. The title of my story is EVERYBODY DIES. And guess what’s going to happen? Yep, and in sick and twisted and horrible ways. Hopefully some of them are funny, at least to the other sickies out there.
I’m about 12,000 words in as I write this, Saturday, November 9. And I’ll tell you, I’m so glad I’m not censoring myself. I don’t give a shit. This is definitely the most nasty, graphic shit I’ve ever written, shit that’s making be like “whoa dude, that’s fucked up” good thing I kicked my inner critics ass and instead I’m like “yeah, and it’s fucking awesome, write something worse!”
This has more in common with Ed Lee or Ryan Harding or A Serbian Film and August Underground Mordum than anything else I’ve ever done and I’m cool with that. I’m actually really excited about that. I like to try and stay diverse. And part of diversity includes having to look up just to see hell.
Good thing I’m all out of shits to give.
I wish you all the best of luck on your quest for 50,000 words in the month of November. Take my advice; cut your inner critic’s tongue out. Or at least tape him to a chair and gag and blindfold him. You can’t kill him, but at least try and shut him/her up for a few weeks.
Time to go spill some ink and guts all over the page.
Just as a teaser to this novel you’re never going to read, the scene I’m about to write is about a guy blindfolding himself and hiring five of his favorite hookers. Based on his other senses and prior experience with them, he’s going to try and decide who’s who. Don’t even think about stealing my idea, dick.
What are you all working on? Fire away at [email protected] or New World Horror – Kerry G.S. Lipp on facebook.
Get nasty and write without fear.
Keep reading, keep writing, and keep it real,
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