Saturday, 30 April 2016

The Pinnacle of My Artistic Career

Every year writers all over the world take part in National Novel Writing Month or NaNoWriMo and try to turn off their inner filter and write 50,000 words in the month of November. The idea is to push yourself to get a first draft finished without editing and I know a lot of people who have found the process really useful for pushing through writer's block or building up discipline. Because NaNoWriMo is a cool thing and has helped people I know every few years I forget that it is an awful idea for me personally to take part. I am posting this extract from my most recent attempt to remind me and everyone around me that I should never be allowed to take part again.   

Days like today are the ones where I wish I hadn’t signed up for NaNoWriMo, 1667 is a lot of words to write every day. It’s only day two. I’ve only written twenty-five so far, but they quickly add up right? To be honest I’m tempted to include a Facebook post I just did to my WriMo writers group. This is the upside of not writing a novel, everything single word I write counts. The idea for me at the moment is just to build up some discipline. I just want to get back into the habit of writing more.  I’ve written 100 words now; it’s taken just over 10 minutes. I only have to do this ten more times and I’m past half way for the day.

One day my web of lies will unravel like the protective coating on this window
at the Tate Liverpool which I apparently took a picture of one time.  
“Oh man, I've had a hell of a hard day. It's 10:30 pm where I am and I only just got in from my last meeting. I haven't written a word yet, I'm just gonna try and get as many words as I can by midnight. Wish me luck!”  That’s the Facebook post. I decided to include it. I think I’m going to look at my words for the day as a “True story of a person doing NaNoWrioMo” thing. When I am successful (as in when I get to 50,000 words) I will post today’s writing on my blog, you know, for prosperity. (I’m over two hundred and fifty words now. I’ve been going for under twenty minutes)

I’m writing this like I think it’s rubbish. But the truth is I think it’s sort of brilliant. I decided about 100 words in that the joke was that this is rubbish, but the truth is I think it’s probably hilarious. If I didn’t think this was hilarious and something I will end up putting it on the blog I would have stopped writing this forever ago. I am not one of those people who see writing as having some kind of intrinsic value. I would not write anything if I thought no one was ever going to read it. Writing is not it’s own reward, I write so people will think I’m clever and funny and brilliant.   

They will probably use something like this as the cover of my biography.
People will probably find me mysterious and esoteric by then.

I have to be honest, at this point in article (Hahah, that was the most liberal application of the word article in history.)  I’m thinking this is more likely to be read by my future biographers than anyone on my blog. (actually, that’s a double bluff. I put that line in because I thought it would be funnier as a blog post if my readers didn’t think this whole thing was the calculated charade that it is.)(Or maybe that’s a triple bluff, so my future biographers don’t think I’m an arrogant bastard constantly thinking about my future biographers.)

I’m an hour in and I feel like I’m running out of steam a little. That last paragraph was mostly bracketed and it got a little bit weird. I still think this is probably just about readable. That’s what I aspire to on my blog, just about readable. This paragraph is the true bluff. I’m pretending I don’t think I’m good so that my future biographers will think I’m humble. I know this is still hilarious gold, but if I put myself down a little my future biographers will think this is my worst writing and then think I’m even more brilliant than I actually am. In truth, I am a vigorous self-editor. I will only preserve the writing I think is good for prosperity, all the bad writing will be ruthlessly destroyed. My future biographers will never know I had so much as an off day. Obviously that’s a joke, I never do any bad writing. It’s all gold. Shakespeare’s best day can’t touch me pulling it out of my arse.

This is a drawing I did of an arse taking a selfie which is no way related
but it has been really hard to find images for this post so you can back off.

Okay, let's be real. A lot of this is terrible (wink face) and will never see the light of day (obviously a lie you are reading it now) but parts of it are probably usable and more importantly than that I have laughed at my own jokes the entire time I’ve been writing and one hour and seventeen minutes in I’ve passed the thousand word mark. I’m one thousand one hundred and seventy-seven words in. (here is another NaNoWriMo tip, the bigger the number your word count is, the more words you can add to your word count by typing it in words not numbers which really comes in handy when you hit the thousands because you are probably running out of things to say) (just kidding, I could never run out of things to say).  

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