So, in a previous post I mentioned that I took part in NaNoWriMo 09 – the National Novel Writing Month. Although, as I think I said at the time, I took part in it somewhat reluctantly.
In some ways, NaNoWriMo should have been a perfect activity for me: a challenge to write every day for a month, and one where quantity is valued far above quality. The aim is to produce 50,000 words in 30 days, and to exorcise your writing demons.
The reality, though, was that I engaged in the project because my dear friend Jacky wanted a writing buddy, and not because I had any particular desire to write myself. My last creative endeavours have been playing with my camera, or my somewhat-neglected screenplay. I didn’t have a novel to write and, in the middle of a busy time in my still new job, I didn’t have a lot of mental energy either.
Well, I started, but I did not finish. In fact, in reality, I only wrote for about a week. And what I wrote was tosh. But I did discover this about myself: although previous experiments show that I can discipline myself to write (and this one even showed that I can do that in my evenings, with sufficient motivation), I just don’t produce good work in the evening. The end result of my half-hearted efforts is a very patchy, completely disjointed brain-dump. There are a few good ideas, but a hellofalot of dross.
Still, I was prompted to share, and share I shall. This is not a good example of Andy Moore writing. Really. But hidden in there somewhere are a few budding flowers in amongst the shit. You can download it here (pdf): it’s called “The Fantasist”.