NanoWriMo has closed. For those of you that do not know, NaNoWriMo, internet for National Novel Writing Month, was a program that encouraged people to write a novel in the money of November. They set the bar at fifty thousand words, which is the low end for a novel but if you hit that count, you did officially write a novel. NaNoWriMo closed for a variety of reasons — ostensibly the closure was due to controversy over its aggressively pro-AI stance, but the problems really started when they mishandled a grooming accusation — and there is a lot to say about the organization and its downfall. I, then, am going to whine about how I think it was ultimately bad for writing.
What I am about to say, in the words of Monty Python, is just my theory. It is a theory that is mine, belonging to me and no one else. I have no real proof for this theory, but that never stopped the lab-leak people or creationists, so here I go: I think NaNoWriMo’s (why does everything that has come from the internet have a stupid name?) focus on speed writing helped create the idea that authors, especially self-publishing authors, should produce multiple books per year. And I think that trend has devalued quality writing.
Now, I understand that the Amazon algorithm is the primary reason self-publishing authors must produce more written words than a just god would allow each year. That algorithm rewards people for having a lot of content and punishes them for having a more reasonable output. But I do wonder if several years of NaNoWriMo has conditioned people to think that writing quickly and sloppily is an acceptable way to produce a novel for consumption. The organization itself did kind of emphasize that these were first drafts, but agents and editors reported for years that they would be swamped with, well, first drafts of short novels right after the end of NaNoWriMo. Everything is connected, as the conspiracy theorists say, and it would not surprise me if the emphasis on producing quantity didn’t overwhelm the concerns about quality.
And before people go off: I am not claiming that quickly written books or self-published books or Kindle Unlimited books or any kind of book, except AI written books, are inherently bad. I know that is not a true statement. However, I am claiming that most works are improved by reworking and editing. Putting first or second rushed drafts out means that you likely are not putting out your best work. The process of rewriting, of thinking about what you intended to do compared to what you produced, of getting feedback and opinions, sharpens the work. By forcing yourself to re-examine your work with a critical eye, you likely make it better. Obviously, there are exceptions to that rule, but you personally are probably not one of them. And most of the people who produced a dozen or more books a year to keep up with the demands of the algorithm are not either. I don’t think it has to be this way.
Amazon has adapted the algorithm to the market before. It limited the number of books that could be published by an author in a day in order to weed out imitative AI slop after people complained about how said slow was degrading their reading experience. The algorithm is not inevitable. But because it is not wholly outside reader influence, the notion that small and fast always produced publishable works, then, could very well have opened the door the algorithm walked through.
Again, I am not claiming that they are not good writers who tell good stories. I am claiming that they could tell better stories if they took the time, if, to be fair, the algorithm gave them the time, to critically rework their pieces. I understand why some people feel compelled to produce at a nearly unsustainable rate — they are rewarded for it. And maybe that proves that quickly written books are good enough. The people have spoken, obviously. But I think that has more to do with the algorithm rewarding people who just cross the quality threshold with speed than with reader preference. I suspect that readers would still appreciate and pay for better than just good enough, and they might be willing to spend more than the usual pittances the algorithm encourages with the quality was consistently higher.
One of the reasons I enjoy working with a writing group, a large one with people who have been trained to be helpful, is that they see things I miss. They can point out things I am blind to or reluctant to accept. A group of people helping you write the best version of the story you want to tell are invaluable, in my opinion, to creating the best work you can. Same with editors. Professionals who understand story are a huge help in making the book the best it can be. Maybe I am wrong. Maybe I am overrating the value of collaboration and editing because of my own personal and professional history (my industry tends to be very collaborative). I am, after all, a failed writer as it says over the door. But I really do suspect that the idea that books can be produced quickly is a foundational error that opened the door for acceptance of the Amazon algorithm.
Anyway, that is my theory, which is mine and belongs to me. Next week will discuss who really wrote Shakespeare’s works. It was William Shakespeare. Shakespeare wrote Shakespeare’s works.
Crap.
Now I have to think of something else to write for next week.
Weekly Word Count
No new words. I spent the week redoing the character backgrounds and plot after feedback from my writing group and the editor for the small press that is potentially interested (I haven’t sold anything! I am still a failed writer. I just know, via my writing group, an acquisitions editor to a small press who expressed interest and asked for right of first refusal in exchange for their feedback on the work in progress. They have agreed to publish absolutely nothing of mine — the book must be completed and of an acceptable quality, two things that have yet to manifest.). I am in the process of redoing the detailed outline and hopefully will start in on editing this week or next.
Have a great weekend, everyone!