I’m writing this the day after writing a manuscript for the 2024 3-Day Novel Contest, which means that I’m tired and definitely not thinking clearly, but also still vividly aware of what it feels like to do this bizarre and intense thing. So maybe it’s exactly the right time to talk about it, even if I’m not at my most coherent at the moment?
The contest itself goes all the way back to 1977, and from what I can tell, right from the beginning everyone has seen it as a wild daredevil kind of experience more than a platform for creating serious work. Because obviously the whole idea of writing a novel at all, let alone a decent novel, over a long weekend is completely preposterous — and yet according to Wikipedia, the 1985 winner (Momentum, by Marc Diamond) was also shortlisted for a big literary award.
I can’t remember now what motivated me to try when I wrote my first 3-Day Novel back in my twenties, but according to my records, I did pretty well with it — at least the organisers wrote me what I described as a “very nice note,” although I’m not sure if my entry was officially shortlisted. And I’ve done the contest four more times after that: the year after the nice note, then again in 2021 and 2022 (when my novel came in third place!), and now again in 2024.
What I remember most about each of these times is a) the physical and mental exhaustion, and also b) the intense high of the altered state that took over at a certain point.
And now I’m trying to think how to describe that sensation.
Long-distance runners famously have their own kind of high, and most of us have experienced or at least heard about the joy of being in a flow state, and I have absolutely experienced highs from playing live in bands, but — as far as I know — a high is not usually something anyone expects to get from the act of writing. (Although maybe my poet friends will disagree? I really hope they do.)
Most writing is slow, and it’s solitary, and a lot of it is painstaking and detail-y. As for me, since the beginning of the pandemic I’ve managed to write for a while every day, but a lot of that is not forward progress — I spend at least half of that “writing” time doing revision, unravelling or improving something I’ve already done.
Which is not exactly joyful and definitely not trippy. But trying to write as much as 10,000 words in a day? That is truly pushing yourself beyond your limits — maybe the nearest thing a writer can do to jumping out of a plane or being chased through the forest by a wild animal (while sitting at home in front of a screen).
You may start off with an outline or a plan, but to get to that kind of massive word count, eventually you have to let go of your usual rules and standards and just let things happen. Something kicks in — who knows where it comes from — and then shit gets weird. That’s when new characters appear, or the existing ones develop crazy ideas of their own, and the story starts to run away from you. At this point your physical body has been taken over by some kind of cosmic energy, and you hardly know what you’re typing.
Once that starts happening to me, I’ve found it hard to step away from my keyboard, which is part of the reason I’ve felt so physically beaten up by the experience in the past.
This past weekend I tried something a little different. The first night (Saturday) I felt terrible, stiff, sore, and stupid, much worse than I remember from previous years. So starting the next day (Sunday) I started taking short breaks to do some stretches every couple of hours, and to get outside for quick walks when I could. That helped with the physical side, anyhow, and last night I didn’t feel so much like I’d just got off a long international flight (in the cheapest possible seats) — although by the time I decided I was finished my novel I was so tired I probably couldn’t have put together another sentence.
Anyhow, it’s over now — for 2024. I have no idea whether what I wrote is any good, or even makes any sense. But it’s done.
About the photos: I took these pictures in Pacific Spirit Park, a forest on the west side of Vancouver, near the University of British Columbia. After all of those hours sitting in one place staring at a screen, I needed to get outside.