Napowrimo

Napowrimo?

Where did it come from?

Every November people all over the world participate in Nanowrimo, which is an abbreviation of National Novel Writing Month. The goal is to write a novel in one month of a minimum of 50,000 words.

The first two years I tried, it left me with the bare bones (first draft) of two novels: a fantasy and a sci fi, only one of which I aim to finish. My third and fourth attempts just left me with a lake of disjointed scenes and often rambling words.  No doubt about it though, Nanowrimo is crazy fun, but if I keep churning out rough drafts, I’ll never finish the novel that is near and dear to my heart. (More about that as well as my attempt to write the 3day novel later.)

Then came Napowrimo (National Poetry Writing Month), where you attempt to write a poem each day in April.  The first year or so I was in a large group and didn’t make it every day. That group eventually dwindled to three and for the last couple of years I’ve managed to complete a poem each day with this nice group of ladies.

I love everything about it. It’s no stress because I can always write a limerick.  I usually just take pen and paper and write, stream of consciousness style, until something hits me with a rhythm or makes me smile and I’m off.  I have no idea where the words come from.  Poetry is like dance. You’re moving to a rhythm, whether prose or rhyme, You don’t reason through it. You feel it and it flows.

I’ll be posting some under the Poetry tab. The children’s poetry that came from various Napowrimo years will, of course, be under the children’s poetry tab. Some of these will be in the form of books.

This one is from last year’s Napowrimo:

Day 8 (I’m not always good on coming up with titles!)

She walked alone at sunset.

She held a golden star.

It seared her hands, her heart, her soul.

But did not leave a scar.

“Where are you going, Earthling?

Please tell us where you’re bound.

And what’s that useless shiny thing,

You’ve so unjustly found?”

She said “There’s only darkness,

Where there should be the dawn.

I cannot stop and speak with you.

I must keep moving on.”

“No, let us take your burden.

You see? What’s all the fuss?

This thing cannot mean much to you,

And not much more to us.”

She said, “There’s something missing.

And I can set it right”.

She spoke to Those she could not see,

And traveled through the night.

“Who said that you must do it?

You’re small and tired too.

If it was such an urgent thing,

Why leave the task to you?”

She said, “I’m not important.

I’ve only got to try.”

And then she took the golden star,

And hurled it toward the sky.