It may be April Fool’s Day, but this is no joke–you are writing a novel!
Yes, that’s right. Did you forget? Have you gotten distracted? Have you gone through a list of excuses? Well, no more, you novelist you!
I’ve read recently that there is an evolutionary reason for forgetting. Mother Nature wants you to forget lots of things, apparently, but not your novel. Forget to make the bed. Forget to return some phone call to somebody you don’t really want to talk to anyway. But don’t forget to write your novel. If there is an evolutionary reason to forget, it is to forget everything except the writing. Why do you think Mother Nature grows trees? For shade and clean air and places for birds to hang out? NO. She makes trees so we can write books. So we can have paper for our printers. So we can have lovely number two pencils. Sure, I’m willing to share the trees with the birds and the lost kites, but make no mistake–I’m hugging trees for the books hidden away in their insides. Press your ear to the trunk and hear those pages rustle (and you thought they were leaves).
You’ve been distracted enough. Is spring in the air? Love? These thing are not for you unless you’re putting them in your novel. Okay? Understood? If it can’t be material for your story it is an unnecessary distraction–but EVERYTHING is material. Go on and write it all down. Let the lawyers sort it out.
Excuses? You’ve run out. Really. From my little corner of the world I know all your excuses. Hey, I’ve got a kid and I teach–I’ve heard every excuse there is. Put down that excuses checklist and pick up your noveling pen (or keyboard). Finish that story. If the idea of finishing is too much for you, then finish the chapter you’re in the middle of. Still too much? Fine. Finish the page. Finish the freaking paragraph! You know you want to, and I know you can.
Giving up? Don’t make me laugh. What kind of April Fool’s joke is that? I once put about 26 shoulder pads (that’s right–cut out of my blouses and jackets) on the top of ceiling fan blades so that when my roommate, a true fashion maven, came home and switch the ceiling fan on, she got showered with shoulder pads. That’s an April Fool’s joke. Not writing, isn’t.
So, remember–you are setting a novel free from the bowels of a tree! Think about how good that is going to feel!
Be an April Writing Fool! I certainly am.