A novel effort in November

"Mom, the cats haven't been fed and they're staring at Dad while he's napping and licking their lips."

"Mom? Mom? Are you in there Mom?"

"What?" I dragged my hands away from the keyboard and my mind out of the torrid romance of the he-saids and she-saids of my growing novel to stare at the two bedraggled and neglected waifs standing behind me. Three, if you add in the husband. Six, if you count the dog and cats. "Is it Nov. 30 yet? It can't be! I still have 39,458 words to go!"

I'm participating in National Novel Writing Month this year, thanks to my coworker John Carney, who will, no doubt, be named in the divorce proceedings as the reason why my husband's probably going to leave me.

"Party of the second part (Carney) induced party of the first part (Reeves) to abandon all semblance of being a mother, wife or human being, preferring instead to hunch over a computer keyboard for 30 days straight in a futile attempt to produce one 50,000-word novel in one month."

Maybe not so futile -- I managed to get about a fifth of my goal written in the first three days of the competition. Just how good those 9,123 words are is a different story, but that doesn't matter. National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo, is "all about quantity, not quality."

Basically, folks around the world try to write a book in one month. They tally their word count on line, and anyone who actually completes the task by Nov. 30 wins. It started in 1999 with about 20 "overcaffeinated yahoos" in San Francisco.

"We wanted to write novels for the same dumb reasons twentysomethings start bands. Because we wanted to make noise. Because we didn't have anything better to do. And because we thought that, as novelists, we would have an easier time getting dates than we did as non-novelists," says founder Chris Baty. "So sad. But so, so true."

John had mentioned NaNoWriMo last year, but for some reason, I could never get my computer to come to speaking terms with the NaNo Web site and my date with Library of Congress destiny fell through. This year, however, new (different, anyway) computer, new opportunity, and, I hope by Nov. 30, new novel.

Like almost every other journalist I've ever known, I'd rather be writing books. As much as I love my job and the stories I write for the paper, it's a lot like sidewalk chalk art. I've seen some truly amazing sidewalk art, worthy of the Louvre, but when the next rain comes through, it's gone. A good feature story here, a great one there, but as soon as you need a liner for the birdcage, it's gone. I want to write something that will sit on the shelf for a while, even if it's the remainders shelf at Hastings, marked down to "Please take this away and we'll give you 10 free movie rentals a day for the rest of your life. And we'll give your worthless, freeloading son-in-law a job. Promise."

I've started at least 50 novels in my life, but I've never finished one of them. Considering the fact that I'm an overweight smoker, you don't have to work real hard to figure out that self-discipline might just be an issue here -- but it's not the only one. I'm a social person. Not a party animal, so to speak, and I'd rather eat lunch at the park by myself and read than go out with a gang of friends, but I like being around people when I'm working. One of the worst jobs I ever had in my life was managing a civic center/theater. I was there alone all day and it was one of the most depressing years of my life.

Writing is a solitary occupation. Your story can be the greatest in the world, but if it's the only thing you're dealing with 24/7, it can also drive you crazy. The great thing about NaNoWriMo is not just the idea of all these people working on all these books as the same time, crashing the NaNo website and tying up Google with bizarre requests. The great thing about NaNo is the social networking. If I've hit a rough spot, I can drop into the chatroom and commiserate with "Gobo" or "sanremoave." They may have advice, or just a cyber shoulder to cry on, but they send me back refreshed and recharged, and I didn't have to leave the living room.

Another aspect I'm loving about NaNoWriMo is the competitive edge. It's not cutthroat, it's more fun than furious, but I'm a competitive soul and when I decided to finish up for the night, then notice that my fellow Tullahoman "Gobo" has written 150 more words than I have, well, I log back on and write 151.

Even if it's "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy," over and over and over ....

We'll see, by Nov. 30, if I can actually finish writing a book -- without going crazy, ignoring my children or misplacing my husband. If so, I'll be sure and tell you when the book sells, so you can get your free videos at Hastings.