No, No, NaNo

It is with great sadness and a heavy heart that I tell you that we are not writing a novel this year.

I refer, of course, to our collective efforts (and by collective, I mean you, dear readers, plus me, and copious amounts of caffeine) to write a novel in a month.  This pursuit was inspired, in 2002, 2003 and 2004, by National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo (say Nah-No-Wry-Moe), an institution that suggests that the best way to write that novel you keep saying you’re going to write one day is to decide that one day will actually be 30, and those 30 days will be November.

Inspired by such lunacy, and the NaNoWriMo motto, “No plot?  No problem!”, we dove in to the endeavor head-first three years ago, deciding, for reasons that currently escape us, that for our 50,000-word novel (you need that many words to qualify as a NaNoWriMo winner), we would write a murder mystery set in Mexico, Missouri.  Fifty-thousand words, a thrice-killed victim, a runaway pig and a town full of characters named after cities in Missouri later, we had Soy de Mexico, possibly the first slapstick murder mystery ever written in which soybeans were a major plot element.  (If you’d like to read it, or are looking for a fantastic procrastination opportunity, click here).

The next year we returned to Mexico with A New Mexico, the second novel in the Mexico series, and then in 2004 we attempted to complete the trilogy with Mexico Revolutions.  I say attempted, of course, because we got stuck at 31,688 words.  Well, I shouldn’t say we got stuck.  It’s not like we were just going along, typing a sentence, and then just got a massive case of writer’s block.  It was more like we got to 31,688 words, realized that it was 10 pm on November 30th, and said, “You know what?  We’re probably not going to write 19,000 words in the next two hours.  Let’s go to sleep instead.”

Now, don’t get me wrong.  You write 31,688 words in 30 days, and that’s a respectable month of noveling by just about any standard -- just not the NaNoWriMo standard.

And so, having fallen short of the goal, I was heartbroken and crestfallen -- and, hey, let’s be honest here, we all were -- but not beaten.

No sooner had November ended than I was looking ahead to NaNoWriMo 2005.  During December and the following 10 months, I told myself, I would finish Mexico Revolutions, work on an outline for the next novel, and be ready to knock out those 50,000 words without any problem when November rolled back around.

And then this summer I discovered something alarming:

The residents of Mexico, Missouri, don’t call themselves Mexicans.

They call themselves Mexicoans.

I know, I was shocked, too.  Once I heard this -- my source being a bona fide Mexican, er, Mexicoan -- I didn’t know what to make of it.  Would the Mexico Trilogy be even funnier if I added in this bit of Mexicana, or would most of the jokes lose something in the translation?  I realized I would have to go back and read through the two and a half books again to know for sure.

Unfortunately, I’m a really, really busy guy right now.  In fact, I have been for, well, at least the last 12 months.  I’m so busy I’ve got the whole current season of The West Wing saved on my TiVo, and I haven’t watched a single episode yet.  That’s how busy I am.

I guess what I’m trying to say here is, I didn’t reread the books.  I didn’t edit them. I didn’t finish Mexico Revolutions.  I didn’t outline any new novel.

So while I really do have some great ideas for the fourth book in the trilogy, Mexico, 65265 -- a murder mystery set in an apartment complex near the Mexico State University campus, populated by lots of trendy college kids who wear Abercrombie and Fitch, sort of The Da Vinci Code meets The South Beach Diet meets The O’Reilly Factor for Kids -- I’ve decided that in the best interests of my sanity and my responsibilities, we should not write a novel this month.

But just because we’re not going to write a novel this month doesn’t mean you can’t write a novel this month.  I mean, it’s only November 4th.  You’ve got 26 days.  To get you to 50,000 words, why, that’s less than 2,000 words a day.  I know you can do it.  And let me tell you, it’s a transformative process.  Right now, you’re just a devilishly handsome/impossibly cute reader of The State of the Union.  But if you start writing right now -- and I’m telling you, you don’t need any plot, or writing skills, or even any good ideas -- you could be a novelist by the end of the month.

I mean, there’s no pressure here.  But you should consider it.  You should at least go to the NaNoWriMo website and surf around.

And if you find yourself in need of any ideas or encouragement, let me know.  As an experienced novelist, I’d be happy to lend a hand.

Just don’t expect me to give away all my good ideas.  I’m already looking ahead to NaNo 2006.