A year and a half ago, I discovered an exciting sounding challenge called National Novel Writing Month, where writers from around the world set out to write a fifty thousand word novel in the month of November. It sounded very exciting. And so, with only a few days to go before the start of the month, and with not a single idea for a novel between us, my three sisters, my mum and I all signed up for the big challenge, the younger two girls setting their own goals through the Young Writer’s Program.
November first, and we sat down to write. What would my novel be about? Would I be able to make it to the end of the word count before the month was over? I hoped so, and worked hard to make sure that it happened. My novel was a mess. Everyone talked over their ideas and gave each other suggestions as to how to keep on with their novels.
And by the end of the month, every single one of us had crossed the finish line with time to spare, from my nine year old sister to my mum. On the last day, we celebrated our victories, laughed at the awful quality of our novels, and made plans to come back and do it all again the next year. After working on fixing these novels of course.
The next year rolled round, 2012, and five people turned up for NaNoWriMo once again. This time we had out novels a little more planned, had a better idea of what was required of us, and brought with us even more determination to win than before. And did we win? We sure did. Another five winners celebrated on the last day, just as before.
And this year? Are we planning on going for our third NaNoWriMo wins in a row? You bet we are. We’re a family of writers. Writing novels is what we do.