Writing 50,000 words in 30 days is a huge accomplishment and one to be proud of, even if it’s not the draft of a novel as NaNo was originally intended. If you have one or more nonfiction projects you’ve been busting to start or finish, then becoming a NaNo Rebel is for you. Some NaNo rebels choose to continue a novel…while others wander into the worlds of nonfiction, video games, scripts, and academic writing. According to :Ī NaNo Rebel is a NaNoWriMo participant who chooses to write something besides a novel of at least 50,000 words from scratch in November.
“But…but I’m not writing a novel,” you say.ĭon’t let the term “rebel” scare you off. Join hundreds of thousands of writers who dive into a writing frenzy beginning November 1st with the goal of finishing a 50,000-word draft by midnight on the 30th. Now is the perfect time. And meeting your goals, getting motivated, and starting a writing routine are perfect reasons to try National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) this year. Have you met your writing goals for the year? No motivation, no writing routine? It’s almost the end of the year – are you thinking, “Why bother now?” This article was originally published in the August 2013 issue of SouthWest Sage and is reprinted here by permission of the author. You can visit Alice at and on her Facebook page: greenriverwritersworkshop. Along with the authors Gerald and Loretta Hausman, Alice runs the annual Green River Writers Workshop in Las Vegas. In 2010, she published A Cowgirl in Search of a Horse, a memoir of growing up in Las Vegas, New Mexico. Writing can make me as proud as I was when I became a pilot.Īlice Winston Carney is director of Hermit’s Peak Press, which publishes original voices of Northern New Mexico. Writing is the lift under my wings, navigates me through the huge blue sky to where I want to go. I have learned that if I hold on, keep writing through that fear, I will level out again, I will go to a place that teaches me lessons about myself and fear.
#THE DIP BY SETH GODIN PDF REDDIT HOW TO#
This is how I feel about writing some days: that I can’t write that I don’t know how to write that if I do write, the words will fly out of control and I will be hurtling towards the earth that I want out of the desire to write. Only then did I feel the dampness on the back of my shirt, the sweat flowing down my sides.
#THE DIP BY SETH GODIN PDF REDDIT FULL#
Give it full power.” I did. And there we were, flying level, the engine purring, the wings lifted by a cushion of air and motion, Folsom Lake blinking its blue eye up at us. As our speed increased, Eric said, “Pull back, nose up. I remember the fear as I pushed the controls fully forward, forcing the plane faster and faster towards the earth. All I wanted to do was let go, to have Eric take over, to be out of there.īut I stayed with the airplane. “Keep the wings level.”Īs I write this, many years later, my fingers quiver on the keyboard, my breathing is shallow, and my stomach lurches. Pushing the controls in, away from me, aims us towards the ground, causes the airplane to gather speed, dive, straight at the tree tops and rocks. “Push the controls in, fast,” commands Eric. The nose goes up, up, then gives a dip down. My hands sweating, I pull back on the controls, raising the nose of the airplane until all I can see is sky. I cut power to the engine. We float through the sky in an eerie quiet.
“No!” I want out of this airplane.īut I am training as a pilot. My pounding heart overpowers all sound, color drains from around me. Then Eric says, “Reduce power to engine, pull back on the controls,” two acts that go against logic when you are 2000 feet above the ground in a small tin can. All the world is blue, gold, and deep green as we head towards the foothills, Folsom Lake a sparkling dot below us. I level the plane, execute a smooth turn, reporting to the tower, “8330X-ray at 1500 feet, turning right, heading towards Tahoe.”īelow us the green and yellow agricultural fields checker their way across the great San Joaquin Valley, bisected by the American and Sacramento Rivers. The little plane rises off the runway into the clear California sky. I give the engine full power, pull back on the controls when the speed reaches 70 knots. I taxi onto the runway, call the tower, “8330X-ray, ready for take off”, loving the sound of my confident, female voice. I am in the pilot’s seat Eric, my instructor, beside me. Writing is like being in the pilot’s seat of my single engine airplane, trying to recover from a stall, the ground rushing faster and faster towards me.
0 kommentar(er)
