For those who haven't been exposed to the mania of National Novel Writing Month, Nanowrimo bands together a diverse group--thousands of writers from around the world--into the valiant effort to produce 50,000 words in a thirty-day period. There are pep-talks, regional Facebook conversations and the daily accounting for writing. Everyone says it--if you want to be a writer--WRITE.
The Nanowrimo goal is length, not edited or polished prose. I've written only two original novels during this effort, but I've rewritten three novels--two during November and one during Camp Nanowrimo in July. Inspired by The Martian by Andy Weir, I plan to blog my 50,000 in the vain attempt to rekindle sputtering hope in humankind. This has been the autumn that has cooled a few fiery desires that have kept me teaching for twenty-five years. The schedule, meetings, testing and behavior have battered the little bird that hope has become. “Hope” is the thing with feathers - (314) BY EMILY DICKINSON “Hope” is the thing with feathers - That perches in the soul - And sings the tune without the words - And never stops - at all - And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard - And sore must be the storm - That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm - I’ve heard it in the chillest land - And on the strangest Sea - Yet - never - in Extremity, It asked a crumb - of me. Source: The Poems of Emily Dickinson Edited by R. W. Franklin (Harvard University Press, 1999)
0 Comments
Your comment will be posted after it is approved.
Leave a Reply. |
J D CooperWriter and Reviewer Archives
November 2020
Categories
All
|