Home from the Marathon – My 11th MNM

I usually write about my Muskoka Novel Marathon (MNM) experience shortly after it’s over. But I wasn’t sure how to deal with this one. I’ve been home from it a week today. I felt like I got nothing done this year. But I also managed to write almost 40,000 words in 72 hours. Perception and reality vastly conflict with one another. It’s the same ole same ole.

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Another of the many distraction tactics I look forward to every year at the MNM…a long walk up a short hill to this place. LION’S LOOKOUT. Down below me, in the background, is the MNM venue.

Why is it this way? Because of the automaton feature that writers will often tap into. They can begin a project by being a writer writing and end up just being writing. Writer disappears at these marathons. Writer becomes writing. The act itself…with no one at the wheel.

This is why I always underestimate my creative output and my productivity. I disappear.

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These are the 10-Page marker ribbons that all writers add to the clothesline every time they get to another 10-page milestone. They add up over the course of the 72hr novel writing marathon!

I was driving yesterday and a thought about my Muskoka Novel Marathon novel came to me in a flash of brilliance. It was more like a eureka moment. ‘I really should have my one character meet with a therapist.’

I mean, something big and terrible happened to them. Most likely, a therapist would be foisted upon them practically against their will in real life after experiencing what they experienced. I should write a scene where they visit a therapist.

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This is the Active Living Centre in Huntsville, Ontario, at night. Shot from the dock at the water’s edge down below during Saturday evening’s distraction period of socializing. (-:

Then, when I finally sat down in front of my manuscript to continue my read-through, a funny thing happened. I came upon a fairly long scene (several pages in length) where my character visits a therapist. Who knows, there may even be more therapist meetings in the manuscript. I’m still reading through. This is one of the reasons I try not to edit while doing that first read-through after arriving home from the marathon. I often have no recollection of what my manuscript contains. And I never know what I’m gonna find. Literally, I have no idea. The therapist scene is a case in point. Blindsided.

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A shot from the dock beside the Muskoka Novel Marathon venue.

I also know that I’m a monumental distraction to other writers at the marathon. I do my best focusing when I’m not focusing at all. I have too much energy to do things in another way. I write my ass off while drinking coffee and eating garbage candy and shooting myself madly off in every direction. Somehow, I walk away from the marathon with most of a novel…and somehow I get that novel completed in the few weeks immediately following the marathon. It’s how I function as a writer.

Another year in the can, another diabetic coma narrowly avoided. My novel is coming along. I may even like what I came away with. I’ll like it more once this read-through is complete and I know exactly what it is I wrote.

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