Lisa Q. Mathews

Look, Ma–No Hands!

The One Where the Writer Tries to Write a Book in a Month. Seen this episode already? Or maybe the storyline sounds vaguely familiar…Welcome to the joys (and potholes) of National Novel Writing Month!

You may have heard this famous writing quote from E.L. Doctorow: “Writing a novel is like driving a car at night. You can see only as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.”

It’s a very encouraging thought, really. Especially for those of us who don’t outline our stories ahead of time. Just a free pass to blithely open up our documents and…well, drive. No mention of how stormy or foggy it gets, or how long the trip is (don’t ask), or factoring in a writer’s bad eyesight, or how many caffeine stops one absolutely needs, or annoying roadblocks and endless rotaries (if you live in New England, you’ll especially relate to that last one), or missed exits or occasional tech disaster (looking at you, GPS). Occasionally there is also a bit of “Are-we-there-yet?” whining.

The summer I turned 16, I of course looked forward to getting my driver’s license. But I didn’t think much about the process of actually driving. I mostly imagined pulling into the school parking lot myself instead of on a smelly yellow bus, sneaking out to Dutchess for a burger instead of cafeteria food for lunch, cruising around on weekends with my friends…that sort of stuff.

My dad appeared one sunny morning on our lake dock where I was happily ensconced on my towel, applying Sea&Ski, to announce it was time for my first driving lesson. I grabbed my tee-shirt and jumped up, ready to hit the road. Instead, I was treated to a literal lesson: about carburetors and pistons and who-knows-what-else. With helpful pencil illustrations.

The info sailed straight over my head. I didn’t care h0w the car worked. (I still don’t really understand the whole process, to be honest.) I just wanted to drive, and get where I wanted to go as quickly and easily as possible. Things didn’t get much better when we finally got out on the highway, either. My dad gave up in frustration, and my mom had to take over as my instructor.

Just for fun, here’s a pic of me on my first car. Banana yellow.

Nope, kidding. It was yellow, but it was my dad’s car, and I was never allowed to even think about driving it. I can’t believe I’m even sitting on it. Here’s my actual first set of wheels (they only lasted until I left for college because I was very bad at tire maintenance):

During National Novel Writing Month (fondly known as NaNoWriMo), aspiring novelists traditionally set a goal each November to write 50,000 words in 30 days. Your mileage may vary, but…that’s the idea. 1666 words per day. (Best not to think about that. Trust me.)

The whole idea is to keep driving, no matter what. No overthinking–just writing. Sometimes you may even need to take your hands off the wheel for a while and trust in driverless technology. You can go back and fix those bumps and potholes (I mean, plot holes) on your return trip.

Unfortunately, this is not always easy for (ahem) some of us. We may have trouble keeping our eyes on the road, fog or no fog. And we may take every opportunity to stop at Howard Johnson’s for ice cream.

You may want to listen to E.L. Doctorow, though, not me. I’ve only “won” NaNoWriMo once–on my first book. The others have taken a few extra miles/months/years. But I have a brand new clown car this year (below, from a recent St. Patrick’s Day parade, perfect for my Shamrock Sisters mystery), so I remain hopeful.

So writers, start your engines, even if you didn’t officially start on Nov. 1. (Full disclosure: I didn’t.) Hop in, we’ve got a lot of miles to drive before we sleep!

Readers, even if you’re not doing NaN0WriMo, do you drive blind, or do you always have a map? Do you love the journey or the destination? Also, can you change a tire?

40 thoughts on “Look, Ma–No Hands!”

  1. Thanks for the fun post, Lisa! For this year’s NaNoWriMo, I went all pantser mode.

    That lasted about ten minutes. My mind prefers the story structure prompts I’ve carefully curated over the years. I dubbed it the Trellis Method.

    Because I already knew my chosen genre, I started with the premise, and that started my little gray cells percolating. Next came the Story Spine, marking the path from the beginning to the end of the novel. Then it was time to flesh out the skeleton, and the Story Body prompts took over.

    Then I drummed out the Story Beats, preparing me to tackle each Scene and Sequel Sequence, producing the page-turning emotions readers love. My goal never changed. I’m still writing a first draft within a month, but having a story structure to support my efforts feels right.

    So I’m an admitted failure at pantsing, and I’m resigned to greet people like this: “Hi. My name is Grant, and I’m a plotter.”

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply

    1. Don’t worry, Grant, there are plenty of plotters here! Some of us like me are #plotterfails–but eventually accept our fate. Others wouldn’t have it any other way. Go, Grant!!! It’s not the journey, it’s the destination, ha.

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

    1. Really got a chuckle over the missed driveway, Nani! That sounds exactly like me. And there’s no such thing as “just” reading–readers are the best!

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

    1. Okay I will try this way! My first car was a pea green 1971 Dodge Dart Swinger that stopped swinging well before the time I’d bought it — even had a vinyl roof! And I’ve been a NaNoWriMo failure a few times but it’s always ended up inspiring a book down the road. One kilometre at a time! Great post Lisa.

      Liked by 2 people

      Reply

      1. Yay, it worked, Judy! Yes, what was the deal with swinging pea green in the 70s? I mean, did *anyone* love that color? (Our family, kitchen, sigh. And the wall phone. Ugh.) But here’s to the writing road in any vehicle or measurement–meet you at the border, Judy!

        Liked by 2 people

        Reply

  5. Sending positive vibes and clear driving conditions to all NaNo participants. I write too slowly to participate so I cheer from afar. BTW, last time I changed a tire was this summer, helping kiddo #2 with his car. Happy writing!

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply

    1. Thanks, J.C.! I’m a slow writer, too, sigh. I don’t know why I sign up for this craziness. But I’m sure you’d leave me in the dust in the tire changing dept. I’d still be on the side of the road, rummaging for a user’s manual (b/c you know there’d be no cell phone/internet connection).

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

        2. Vickie: I can’t change a tire, and in the days before cell phones I have depended on the kindness of strangers. And I was blessed to have kind souls take pity on me. And I married a very kind man who has changed tires and jumped off batteries for folks cover the years.

          Liked by 1 person

          Reply

    2. JC, I had to laugh at this because when I learned to drive, part of my dad’s test was that I knew how to change a tire. Just like a surgeon, I watched one, I did one, then I taught one and passed his test. But I’ve never had to change one in the wild. In one of my latest books, my character goes to pull out her spare tire … and there isn’t one. Apparently, my research found, car companies rarely give you a spare tire anymore. It’s one of the ways they’ve lowered the weight and fuel efficiency of a car. But like my character, if I’d been in the same boat, I would have been flummoxed when I didn’t see a spare in the trunk!

      And Lisa, you know I’m an unapologetic plotter. I did NaNo once, back when I still wrote for kids. I got 60k in, which was two entire middle grade stories. Knowing I’ll never beat that, I’ll rest on those laurels! Rooting for you though!!

      Liked by 2 people

      Reply

      1. Becky, your dad and mine would have gotten along just swell. I didn’t get the hands-on test, though. My mom took over and I’m pretty sure she had no clue how to change a tire either.

        Like

        Reply

  6. I’ve done NaNo a couple of times. You can do it! I am an ardent follower of Mr. Doctorow’s advice. Just now, at 72,000 words of an 85,000 word novel, I know who killed both my murder victims.

    I have never changed a tire. But I can call AAA.

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply

  7. When I start a novel, I have only a general idea of a theme, maybe a beginning and an ending. The rest I make up as I go along. I have tried and tried to plot, but my mind just goes blank when I try to think in that mode. I must tell a story to make a story.

    Besides, for me, it’s easier to revise than to write.

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply

  8. Your process makes sense to me, Tom! And very true re: the revising. I keep reminding myself of that other quote, the you-can’t-revise-a-blank-page thing. Sigh.

    Like

    Reply

    1. I’m doing the 3 pm EST session today, Jen! (Gulp.) So much fun to have company on the ride–and those words really pile up in the sprints.

      Like

      Reply

  10. What a fabulous post, Lisa–love it!! And I love your dad’s yellow car, too! (I always wanted a yellow sports car, and since I never had one myself, gave it to my protag Sally, instead.)

    Definitely a plantser, here. I used to plot out my books in great detail, but no longer have the patience for that. So now I plot out the beginning and end, and find myself swimming blindly through the messy middle….

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    1. Ah, I know that blind swimming/driving feeling well, Leslie! Swimming is more fun but less opportunity for pit stops…

      Like

      Reply

  11. OMG, you and your dad both had awesome cars! Then again, for a while our second car was a 1964 convertible Ford Futura, black with a red interior, and I loved that car so much I wrote it into a play AND it’s what Maggie drives in my Cajun Country Mystery series.

    I don’t do Nanowrimo. I tried once and it didn’t work for me. But I definitely “map” my mysteries. I start with one of my famous 30ish page , single-space outlines. But I always take side trips inspired by the outline to other aspects of the story that I missed in the outline. In essence, my outline is my first draft.

    And I don’t know how to change a tire. That’s what AAA is for!

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    1. It was always made crystal clear that it wasn’t really “my” car—but very soon no one else wanted it! Love that you use your fave car in your writing!

      Like

      Reply

  12. I have a general idea of where I’m going, but I let my GPS/map on my phone guide me once I start to get close. I used to map things out before hand in the days before we had that wonderful invention on our phones.

    I have changed a tire, but it’s been a long time, so I would be very rusty if I had to do that.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    1. Sometimes I very secretly print out the steps if I’m in a cell service dead zone. (I know, I’m a hopeless Dino.)

      Like

      Reply

  13. Wow! Your Dad had a Jaguar? I am soooo impressed, I’d have killed for a Jag (any color) when I was a teenager. Not that I’d turn one down at this time!

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  14. I thought that was a Jaguar. Wow! I got my driver’s license in Texas when I was 14. I took Driver’s Ed in 9th grade using a standard transmission car. But I did not get my own car until my senior year in college. My father took me car shopping. I wanted the 1962 T-bird and then the Opal GT. I ended up with his idea of a small car which was a 1962 Chrysler Newport. I called it Namu the Killer Whale because it was huge. It ended up being a great car because it held everything and more, got great gas mileage but I was stopped by the Highway Patrol on my way home with my roommate from graduating college and they thought that we were runaways stealing our dad’s car. What young woman would want that car. It had a great AC as most Chryslers did then. I sold it five years later and gave my father the money. I finally bought my own car, a 1975 Audi Fox and loved it. My fiancée and now hubby for forever, made me learn all of the car parts and what they did and be able to change my own oil and tires. The whole deal was that if I passed, he would change my oil for me forever. I almost didn’t. I almost forgot to put a bit of oil on the oil filter but remembered in time. Then, I went to take the lug nuts off the tires and could not budge them. But he let that pass as he could not either. The tire place put them on so tight. Fun to remember. Thanks for the bringing this all back.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    1. You never forget your first car, Madeleine! What great memories. I called mine Bessie ( a Chrysler Imperial–not sure of the year). She held a lot of friends smushed up in the back (and front) seats. Not sure it had seat belts, but my dad thought I’d be safer in a boat.

      Like

      Reply

  15. I absolutely LOVE this, Lisa!! (And the car pics are priceless.) I am in awe of all NaNoWriMo participants and sending you (and all) buckets of writerly encouragement.

    I haven’t realllllllllly participated. I did the equivalent of sitting in the car, adjusting my rearview mirror, and schooching the seat up. But that’s pretty much it. I did my own informal Write Like Mad thing a few years ago. (You know… WriLiMa.) It netted me 35K words! It stalled, but I’ll bet I can pop the clutch and get it going again.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    1. Vickie: I’ve participated in NaNoWriMo a couple of times either to jumpstart a new project or pump up the word count on a current manuscript. I write slow, so I never even shot for 50K. My best year, I did hit 30K, which was a feat for me! But I have so much love and respect for the real NaNo warriors out there. Good luck!

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

Leave a reply to Lisa Q. Mathews Cancel reply