Sometimes I think Twitter is going to ruin my writing. Everything comes out now in 140 characters or less. I tweet more than I write on Facebook – although sometimes I think that’s because the people who’ve friended me on Facebook expect real, profound thoughts when I post there – or at least some bit of real personal news they can pretend is interesting to them.
Twitter can be garbage. It can be brilliant, but it can also be inane and pointless. It’s all of the Internet – all of humanity – in nice, non-time-consuming chunks.
So I’m writing a book in November, just like I did last year, and it occurred to me that, to keep myself honest, I should commit to publishing some of it. What better venue for a hastily-penned first draft than Twitter?
Every day, I plan to tweet either the best or the worst sentence from my writing of the day before. I’m not going to say which it is, which I figure will protect my ego (if I get any feedback). No smut, and no cussing (well, not much, anyway), and nothing over 140 characters (with tags).
It feels different this year. This year, I am watching #nanowrimo on Twitter, and noticing all the people who have entire books outlined already. I am so much more intimidated than I was last year. Last year, all I had to know was that I could run off at the keyboard.
Surprise! I can. And all those words don’t make a book.
This year, I know what I’m getting into. I also have something to write that I care more about. In a way, that will be easier. In a way…it matters to me much more. I know what I’m doing now – or at least I know what I’m trying. I want to do it properly. I want to write something I can work with and revise and finish. For-real finish, not just NaNoWriMo-first-draft finish.
I think what I really need to remember to do is have fun.