I can scarcely believe that I was capable of writing 50,000 words in one month, let alone at all, for NaNoWriMo. It requires an almost Machiavellian determination that I previously did not know I had. Along the way, I have learned that there is definitely a difference between the "process" of writing -- the showing up every day, no matter your mood or the weather -- and the "product" of writing -- a blog, article, novel, play, screenplay etc.

So much emphasis is always placed on the product that many creative folks feel there is something wrong when they are not churning out literary gems every second they sit down to pen and paper (or laptop). Boy did film school totally mess with me in that regard. From my recollection, it was all about getting something onscreen, and very little about the convoluted process of arriving there, which is 95% the battle. Granted, I only did a year, but I don't think I learned anything tangible about the process of writing and telling a story that I couldn't have found out on my own.

One of my Hedgebrook sisters hipped me to a theory, proposed by Claudia Johnson, that the rising and falling action theory of dramatic writing is entirely phallocentric. Johnson suggests, from a more feminine perspective, that narrative storytelling is really a series of connections, disconnections, and reconnections. After going through my story outline, I found that this was a better way of describing what was happening organically in my writing than anything I read in Aristotle's Poetics.

Maybe this whole focus on the end goal is phallocentric too.

I find that every day I am negotiating either a connection or disconnection to my writing, and so this "novel" product becomes a vaguer goal than the immediate one of managing my own interest in the subject matter, authenticity in the storytelling, and personal commitment to finishing. Just some food for thought.

And for any folks looking to churn out more product, NaNoWriMo posted a handful of other competitions from poetry to screenplay writing on their site (scroll down to the bottom of the page).

I have been back for over a month now. Not necessarily hiding from the public, but certainly from this blog. I developed a distrust for the public-personal while away at my residency in the woods, in my cottage, with a wood burning stove and an owl hooting outside my window. I think the personal should be private, and I think that blogging sometimes cheapens my experiences.

It is not truly possible for me to distill the essence of what happened to me in that month alone in the woods. Suffice it to say, it was the most overwhelming gift of divine love I've ever received. A love I never even thought was in the realm of the possible for me. And in that love, I was able to give birth to a novel I've been dreaming of and scribbling in notebooks for over three years. I also dreamt a piece of choreography that I had to get up and dance at five o'clock in the morning. And watched my student films with some of my writing sisters and had a chance to reflect on my process and progress as a filmmaker. And watched other marvelous novels, poems, and memoirs being born that made me feel like a witness to the unfolding of literary history.

I came away believing in myself as an artist -- as a writer, filmmaker, dancer, singer. Given the space, time, and opportunity to do anything, I found myself doing all those things quite organically -- and also taking long bike rides, picking up shells on the beach, picking flowers and raspberries and fresh salad from the garden.

I had not previously realized that this need to create was somehow programmed into my DNA, that my utter misery doing anything else was simply God telling me so. I also had not realized how much I really hate living in New York. I am in the process of making some changes, I think, that you cannot unmake. And I think it is a very good sign.

There is a quote by Anais Nin that states: And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.

I imagine that my bud is only now blossoming, coinciding with my 28th birthday that I celebrated while away. Though I had always thought myself a late bloomer, I found myself to be the youngest woman at Hedgebrook (the next youngest was 41, the oldest 70). And they welcomed me with such respect and regard that I found myself maturing to my call to join the circle of women writers.

We had the most thrilling conversations about life, work, love, politics, and writing, that I wept bitterly while leaving. Wept over the ashes of my wood stove, over the drying petals of my birthday flowers, the cedar trees that swallowed the earth, the banana slugs that slithered on the foot path. I thought I was in danger of leaving my best and truest self there, and so I did not want to come back. Yet I find that marvelously creative woman is still with me, waiting inside every time I sit down to write.

And so I wrote on, fifty thousand more words in November, in NYC, back in the Bronx, completing NaNoWriMo for the first time. And I am still writing, silencing the din of the city, trying to write my way back to that peaceful place that I found in the woods with the women and the dahlias and the sunrise over Deer Lagoon.

Reading another great book this week, "No Plot? No Problem!" by Chris Baty (pictured right), founder of NaNoWriMo, the National Novel Writing Month Competition. Every November, more than 100K writers around the globe try to write a 50,000 word novel in just one month. There are daily pep talks, "write-ins" with fellow NaNoWriMos, an online regional database to locate other participants, and a certificate upon completion.

Sound a little crazy? Maybe it is. But there are far crazier things in life than writing a novel in a month -- say, writing a novel in 10 years.

I tried it last year; but life, fate, and my crazy roommates conspired against me. I don't think it's a farfetched idea at all, it's certainly quite doable. But there are quite a few things that need to be in place to create a favorable environment for Nano-ing and writing in general. What's great about his book is that it is written for people who have a lot on their plates -- like school, work, and family -- and live in an internet culture that creates these overwhelming and nonproductive sucks on your time (something that Anne Lamott and Stephen King don't take into account at all, likely because they're old school).

Chris offers tips on how to prioritize your writing and deprioritize time sucks like web surfing, washing dishes, and hanging out till all hours of the night. There's this great little tool, called a Time Finder, for figuring out what things you can do without. For a whole week, you keep a daily log of your activities, noting how long it takes you to do them. Then you go through with a colored pen at the end of that week and categorize each activity as REQUIRED, HIGHLY DESIRED, or FORGOABLE. Once you do that, you cut out all the forgoable activities (and highly desired if push comes to shove) for those four weeks and voila -- you found the time you need to write!

I always feel like I don't have enough time in the day, so this Time Finder seems really amazing. I certainly do waste a certain amount of time every day which, taken together, I could be using to enormous good. At the same time, one thing that Chris finds is that your down time becomes enormously productive as a result of getting your writing done. Spending time with friends, the sunrise, even a slow walk in the park seem more enjoyable.

And I can vouch that this week, writing at least a couple of hours every morning has been very good to me. I find that I'm far less irritable with other people because I'm getting my own work done and I can really be present with them because I'm not thinking about what I didn't get done.

I hope the process of finishing this book will help me finally put to rest this issue I have with prioritizing other people's commitments over and above my own, giving generous amounts of valuable time away -- in a sense, giving myself away. To that end, I have officially instituted a moratorium against working on other people's projects at present, so I can commit fully to my book.

Will let you know how well I stick to it. ;)