Ways Not to Write a Novel

It's a tricky thing, not writing a novel, and you may need some helpful advice to get you through the process. Fortunately for you, dear reader, I have a great deal of experience in not writing a novel, and I'm going to share with you some of the top techniques. Be warned; some of these are not for beginners.

1. Netflix. If you're not subscribed, you should definitely sign up--at least for the online streaming. Sure, you can probably find everything on Netflix elsewhere and save $8 a month, but Netflix has a magical invention that is almost essential to not writing a novel: the instant queue. In less than twenty minutes, you can have the next 250 hours of viewing planned and lined up, ensuring that you'll even have to think about what to watch next, lest you be tempted to give up and get back to work. Need a place to start? I recommend diving into something with more than 200 episodes, like Law and Order: SVU.

2. Discuss your story. This one's a classic--writers have been using it to not write for centuries. At every opportunity, tell your other writer friends about your novel; talk about your characters and the brilliant narrative that will bring them all together. If, somehow, you manage to exhaust those topics, move on to talking about your eventual search for an agent and things you'll talk about on your book tour.

3. Video Games. You're bound to be getting burnt out, and video games are vital for restoring the creative process. Just shut off your brain for a while. It's for the best.

4. Research. It sounds boring, but don't be fooled. You have no idea of knowing what you might need to have experience in when you first start your novel. Dedicate yourself to at least 2 hours every day hitting random Wikipedia articles and reading Cracked.com.

5. YouTube. Just start with one two-minute clip of something you enjoy. A song, or perhaps a kitten slideshow. Then, follow the related video links until you have been completely enveloped by the YouTube vortex. Once you're in the vortex, don't worry about putting off your novel--there's no way you'll escape.

You may have noticed that many of these techniques require access to technology, but don't think they're your only options. If you're trying not to write a novel, it may be the perfect time to pick up a new hobby like origami, or lawn darts. Is your kitchen stocked? Closets clean and organized? Bills paid? When in doubt, just take a look around and you're sure to find something. Perhaps a blog post.

Now, if you're actually looking for ways to write a novel, I'm not sure I can help with that. I mean you could, in theory, just not do all those things...but I fail to see how that could be at all possible. You're probably doomed.

The Triumphant Return

This post started as a script for a vlog--oh, by the way, I've been doing a vlog called English Majors Talking (or English Major Stalking) and you can find it here.   After a disastrous two-hour attempt at editing, iMovie crashed and I lost everything.  I still have the footage, but I don't really feel like reliving that experience, so it's not getting edited.  But rather than have it be a complete waste, I thought it might be worth putting up here.

I noticed that as our videos get later and later it becomes harder to actually post the video, and I have a theory to why that is (at least for me).  And to talk about this, I want to use Randy Moss.  (Yes, that Randy Moss).  

I think we’ve been sort of conditioned to believe in the triumphant return--you’re away for a while, but then you come back better than ever.  So take Randy Moss.  I always thought he was overrated, but he’s still a solid receiver and officially, he’s in retirement.  But he’s said that he’d consider coming back to the NFL for a team with a playoff bid.  (Disclaimer: Since writing the script, I saw an article in which he announced that he had no intention to return, but I'm sticking with the example to make my point.  Besides, you know how often retirements stick in the NFL.)  He’s not looking just to play--he wants to put up great stats late in the season and send a good team all the way through.  He wants to have a triumphant return to the NFL, and you see it all the time in football--Brett Farve tried and it didn’t go so well, but Michael Vick returned and dominated. When you pull it off, you're practically a hero--you get a clean slate.  If Randy Moss comes back and does well, we forget that his last season was mostly a game of "No, you take him" in which he accomplished very little.  Instead, he becomes the underdog who came back and proved himself. 

And we see that everywhere, not just in football.  The first time doing something outside in the summer needs to be epic after a long winter.  You need to go do something crazy if you haven’t seen a friend in months to make up for lost time.  I think we’re conditioned to believe that the longer the lead-up, the better things need to be, so as we fall more behind there's much more pressure to do well.

But like Hank Green said in the Wednesday's vlogbrothers, sometimes a bad decision is better than no decision.   Sometimes you just have to put it out there and move on.  We might not have anything spectacular to make up for lost time, but we can at least stop more time from being lost and there’s a lot more value in that than people (like me) realize.  It just doesn’t make a great narrative--which makes me wonder if people like writers aren’t especially prone to making bad decisions because subconsciously they realize that the story will be that much better.  Not only do we over-value the triumphant return, I think sometimes we intentionally do poorly because we believe we can set one up.  It's a stupid risk at best, and it's without a doubt a waste of time.

Triumphant-Return-Syndrome has definitely had a strong impact on my written blog as well.  I tend to have pretty large gaps between posts; if after two months, nothing has been interesting enough to post enough, how is today any different?  And that’s a hard habit to break, but I know that I need to.  I'm beginning to believe that the best kept secret to success is that it's often disguised as mundane work.