NaNoWriMo Update #4: Artisinal Writing

What’s my update today? I was working on a section of cane toads and sapos, and then moved on to spies and anxiety of fieldwork.

I think I’m using it all to get at a discussion of the basic extractive nature of research, which I don’t contest. However, I’m not totally convinced by the normal solutions that people propose—participatory research, do people really want more workshops, solve the issue. But, in any case, I am still committed to the ethnographic endeavours. So, how does one square that circle? I don’t think you can. So, my answer is a. It comes down to the labour of ethnography—both in the field and afterwards.

The conditions of the research and the writing, as it were. It would seem silly to ask my friends from the field to participate in my half-decade-long writing process. But, to see that writing as labour, as embodied, as a practice, is to think of it, perhaps, like artisanal gold mining or subsistence production. Maybe? Is this a point worth pursuing? My writing process, at least as I imagine it to make myself feel better about being a cane toad, sapo, snitch, inquisitorial ethnographer, is artisanal, makeshift, craft work.

Maybe what I’m trying to say is the difference between an open-pit mega mine and a artisanal gold mine. Both are extractive, but the latter does little harm. I of course imagine myself on that latter side of things.

This is what I was trying to articulate today. Didn’t come together, but I’ll try tomorrow.

No finishing Friday today. But, maybe 5000 words are good.

Step by step; bird by bird.

NaNoWriMo Update #3: Zonked by Words

It’s 2 p.m. I’m driving home from the office without my computer. I got to campus at 8:30, went to a coffee shop, and wrote intensely until about 11:00. Then I went to my office, did some more, had lunch, worked a little bit with a student on a grant, then did some more writing on the book. I’m done for the day, and it’s only 2:30, which is good because I’m zonked. I’ll go home for a hike. It feels like cheating, stopping early. But, it’s already been a six-hour day of editing, cutting, quoting, polishing, revising, and rewriting. More manual than intellectual, really. The book’s argument is that writing can be a form of more manual labor, after all. The section, I picked at for years. Maybe five years? It’s an about fieldwork and feelings of anxiety, of being a spy, an outsider, out of place, doing something where they don’t belong. It’s a common feeling, I suspect, for anthropologists. It’s also about cane toads, gossips, tattletales, snitches, and spies. Its now 800 words or so. That doesn’t seem like a lot, but because it’s tight, it’s dense.

At the end of the day, before checking out, I did some rough notes for tomorrow using voice dictation. It’s about thinking about ethnography as both an extractive and an artisanal endeavor. Tomorrow I’ll tighten up the rest of what I’ve already written and then do a first pass on the notes. Friday I’ll finish the whole chapter. It will be about 7,000 words.

I have no idea how that will count for NaNoWriMo records. I’ve been doing a lot in the last few weeks, but haven’t updated or tracked word counts. The election derailed me a lot. Then, I did a bit of programming. Today and Friday, were pretty good writing days.

NaNoWriMo Update #2

Today’s brief update: I went into my Cane Toad section and reviewed it. I worked on structure and coded my really rough notes into a draft outline. This meant putting pieces about the same thing together. I structur. Tomorrow, I’ll tighten each section down to remove all repetition, get the tense correct, make it short as possible. Wednesday, I’ll step back and look at the whole.

While I was at it, I put into order the section on places where I did fieldwork, and describe the work of writing in the field.

In total, I have 6,000 words that are in a tentative order. Is it a perfect? Good? No. Will it change, yes. But, it gives me something to work on tomorrow. I will take each small section of maybe 150 or 200 words and edit them individually.

Once I’ve done that, I can review the whole and see what I have on Thursday.

So far, 6,200 words. A win. I’d say. It’ll give me 2,500 words a day, give or take. On track for NaNoWriMo, I hope. But, word counts are somewhat silly if I think too hard about them. But, since my goal is not a word count, but a draft in a few weeks, it feels okay.

NaNoWriMo Update #1

Update on Today’s Writing.

I was at my mum’s and started flipping through Kyo Maclear’s book Unearthing, about plants, gardens, and tangled roots. On the third page, there’s a line that left me wondering. In it, Maclear reflects on how her own failure to grow plants transferred in 2019. She describes the crucial change:

“When I stopped attributing every little event to my own doing and realized I did not have control (the opposite of a storyteller’s mindset), the plants began to grow” (p. 3).

I know the feeling, but I feel it with words.

I know the art of writing involves an attempt at control. Part of why words can be so torturous is because we’re trying to make them perfect. But in this book, I’m increasingly convinced that the trick is to give up control—to let things come, to recognize that there is agency in the words, in the fingers, and in the process that isn’t merely a reflection of the mind’s control. The result of all this hard work reads like something that comes out of control, but the output has little resemblance to the process.

I wrote a section on this. It’s a bit like Peter Elbow’s metaphor of “growing and cooking.” One grows a garden, where things are messy and uncontrolled. Later, one cooks a meal. But even in cooking, there’s a lot that is out of control. Or, maybe, much of cooking is based on practical knowledge. Certainly, this is De Certeau’s point. Writing is both embodied and practical, of course. The point, it’s not fully controlled.

With all that written in shitty first draft rough sketch, I then turned to a section on cane toads. I’d written five versions of a cane toad hopping into the room I slept in. I worked to cut and revise them into one canonical section.

My point?

Cane toads in Colombia are also known as sapos. Sapo is a colloquial term for snitch and spy, often spoken with venom. Sapos often die young in a country at war. Is writing ethnography an exercise in getting into places one does not belong? Are we not professional strangers, but spies, tattletales, snitches? Anthropologists are often mistaken for spies. But, I don’t think that feels fair. Yet, it does reflex a lot of our professional anxieties.

All in all, with about an hour’s work, little abstract thought, and certainly not much planning, I wrote 800 new words on writing as gardening without control. I also revised and condensed several drafts I’d written over the years bout a cane toad into a tighter scene of about 3,000 words. So, let’s say, Day Three of NaNoWriMo, I got about 4,000 words done. Makes up for not really doing much yesterday.

Writer’s Diary #51: NaNoWriMo

This is a quick update. It’s November—time for NaNoWriMo, time for ambitious goals, audacious writing, even if the words themselves at the end will be ever contingent. The words end up being imperfect. Often, in many cases, so imperfect as to be nearly useless. But the aim is to get something done.

On Friday, my task was a “Finishing Friday.” I sent an article that I’ve been fiddling with for a long time. Is it good? No. Is it perfect? No. Am I happy with it? Not really. But I sent it off to a journal. It will get reviewed, sent back, and then I’ll try again. Finishing Friday.

I think this month is going to be something similar: Finishing November. Or, of course, NaNoWriMo. My goal this year? “Finish the Goddamn Book Writing Month.”

I have a small writing group with some friends. One of them, along with me, is adopting some goals. She’s going to write the first three chapters of the book she’s working on.

My goal? I will revise and reorder and magpie my way into a complete draft of the book by the end of the month.

What does that mean? At first blush, that means 90,000 words.

90,000 words is a good-sized academic book. Mien will be ordered, broken into scenes, with narrative and argument woven together, in support of a makeshift way of proceeding.

I don’t mean 90,000 words, perfect. I don’t mean done, for good. I don’t mean tight as I can get it.

But, I do mean that I want to take forward momentum, stop revising, and weave together a book of about 90,000 new words, organized, put into a temporary, contingent, place, lightly polished enough that I can get a feel for the whole things.

That’s the task.

What are the milestones?

Let’s see. First, a word budget can help.

90,000 words is a good-sized academic book, at least according to William Germano (2009, Getting It Published). Let’s break that down: take out 5,000 words for references and another 10,000 words for notes. That gets us to maybe 80,000. Add in some padding both ways. Say, 75,000 words. So, we’re left with getting a draft of about 75,000 words.

I’ve already got 5,000 words polished. So, that means my task for the November is 70,000 words.

I have 10,000 words from finishing Friday. So, that leaves 60,000 words.

60,000 words is the goal. It’s November 3rd today. Lets break 60,000 into 27 days. My goal is to write, revise, or reorder 2,500 words or so each day. Seems audacious. But, it’s doable. I’ve done it before. Quite a few times actually.

Crucially, my task right now is not write 2,500 words. Or at least, not most of the time. Rather, it’s to code, reorganize, gather, bring together, cut up.

The model is more like making a patchwork quilt, than knitting something from scratch.

But, the method is like a magpie. Taking shiny things, bringing them together, attacking them, seeing how they work.

Crucially, at this stage of the game, it’s not much thinking. It’s a manual work. Craft like. Physical labour.

Wish me luck.

I’ll do updates, daily.