Road to Echoes: 8 Tips for Using NaNoWriMo to Write Your Novel

National Novel Writing Month, which happens in November every year, is a massive community of creatives using the time like one giant writing sprint. Millions of people start it, thousands of people finish. What sets those who complete it with those who don’t. No idea. This isn’t that kind of post. Instead, I wanted to examine how using NaNoWriMo 2020 helped me to kickstart In the Echo of this Ghost Town which publishes next month (October 12, 2021).

Look, full transparency, I’ve “won” NaNoWriMo four times (and by “won” I just mean met the 50,000 words written in November goal). So far, though, I haven’t published any of those works. In the Echo of this Ghost Town. with be the first. The other 3 projects need so much more work that I have them in the publishing plan queue for the next few years. This is the first time I met the word count goal and used the momentum to finish the book. Interested in learning more about NaNoWriMo books that have been published? Here’s a blog about it and here’s a reel I made.

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So how did I do it?

  1. Choose a project

    First, I had a project in mind before November even rolled around. I started playing around with Griffin’s story in July 2020. I had a general sense of his character, I had a sense of the conflict and the inciting incident (i.e., the fight with Tanner from The Stories Stars Tell), so when I looked ahead at my schedule, I saw the opportunity to commit to writing forward on the draft in November.


  2. Set an overall goal

    The next thing I did was set an overall goal. NaNoWriMo already has a built in goal of 50,000 words for the month. It’s a great milestone to shoot for it you find that motivating. Word counts are cool and I love recording them and seeing the graph climb each day, but it wasn’t the 50K word count I was shooting for, it was a completed first draft of In the Echo of this Ghost Town. So while NaNoWriMo offers a common finish line for everyone, don’t hesitate to set your own goal based on your needs and the best practices within your own process.


  3. Prepared

    Next, I started November prepared. How prepared? I had done some heavy lifting on my character work (completed a template I made and use for getting to know characters and explore their motivations as well as character interviews of each of the characters I knew). I had several scenes written, a rough understanding of what I thought the story structure would be, and the ability to identify mini goals to help me move forward. Finally, I did some research. For Griffin’s story this meant looking closer at abandonment and male culture. Was I finished with the research by the time I got started in November? No, but I’d gotten started.


  4. Set a daily goal

    Next, to hold myself accountable to the daily grind of writing, I set daily goals. NaNoWriMo does this for us. 1,667 words each day over 30 days to make the 50K mark. So, here’s my truth, I don’t find word counts motivating. Sure, I love watching that graph climb when I enter my word count, but truthfully, when I’m writing to a number, I feel sort of paralyzed and boxed in. What motivates me even more, is making my own visual accountability chart to record and color in my progress filled in with my own personal goals.

    As part of my preparation, I set the first week with goals. These goals are related to story and scene work rather than word counts. So for example, the first day, I might identify “Griffin & Mom” as the goal. I know that means I need to work on developing a scene that explores the dynamic between these characters. So I sit down that day and write to complete that scene. As I write forward, I adjust and modify the daily goals as necessary to keep the forward momentum. And because characters always surprise me, I need to leave room for adaptation.


  5. Sat my butt in the seat and wrote

    This takes commitment and self-discipline. Again. I love to color in my chart., so there’s that for the discipline. But I also know it can be too easy to be like, “Oh I’ll just I write more tomorrow.” I did that for a lot of years (which I think comes down to not having done the preparation). I DO schedule in a few days of non writing (I.e., my birthday [which falls in November], Thanksgiving and the day before are bonus writing days). Just sit down and write.

    Having a finished project as my goal (I.e., Griffin’s story) made it easier. I had an endgame in mind. I had a sense of how to get there. Sitting down everyday to write toward that end didn’t feel so painful.


  6. I am kind to myself

    Sometimes there are horrible writing days. There was a day I only wrote 800 words. It felt like every word I typed were droplets of blood oozing through my fingertips. On those days, it is important to be kind to yourself. There are things I try to jumpstart the creativity. Sometimes I change location; sometimes I change medium (I.e., computer to a handwritten journal) , but there are days NOTHING works. Be kind, set a goal for the next day, and give yourself permission to walk away WITHOUT the negativity.


  7. Wrote forward rather than looking backward

    It is always tempting to reread what I’ve already written. I try to avoid this unless I need to to get started or reacquaint myself with a specific plot point. But usually I avoid this during NaNoWriMo. Instead, I focus on the daily goal and if I’m not sure I write that into the draft and then keep moving forward. That is what revision is for.

    There is one caveat to this: I will reread what I have written each day in order to allow myself the opportunity to flesh out and develop what I started. I tend to underwrite for NaNoWriMo. So I might write an 800 word scene. When I go back through it and add details and find opportunities to add flesh to the page, it becomes clearer (and adds to the word count, obviously).


  8. Celebrated the milestones

    Finally, it’s easy to be negative with ourselves. It’s easy to think, “I wasn’t good enough today,” or “I’m not good enough to do this.” I know these thoughts will happen. They happen to all of us, but when you achieve a goal—whether its one you set for a day, or one you set for the week, or one you’ve asked your CP to hold you accountable to meet—celebrate it! A glass of wine, a night out with your friends, whatever it is, celebrate your writing wins!

An example of handwriting to change my perspective and jumpstart the flow when I’m stuck.

An example of handwriting to change my perspective and jumpstart the flow when I’m stuck.

Ultimately, NaNoWriMo is a personal endeavor. It isn’t a competition with anyone else but rather a chance to face yourself, which is why I say use your strengths and what you find motivating to get to that finish line! If you’re planning on participating, good luck, and come find me so we can be Nano friends (CL Walters). I’ll be working on the second book of my fantasy and will need all the moral support I can get.

The Road to Echoes: Loud Characters

Sometimes there are characters that pop off the page. I call these “loud” characters which perhaps mischaracterizes them. I’m referencing those characters that connect to the audience in a way that in many respects is intangible. But we know people like this, right? People who feel larger than life. Those humans that somehow speak to our hearts without saying a word, or those souls who seem to connect with us in a way that is powerful beyond words. That’s the kind of character I’m referencing.

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Tanner in The Stories Stars Tell was like this for me. I had assumed Stars would be Emma’s story (and half of it is), but then Tanner jumped off the page whenever Emma interacted with him, and I wasn’t able to keep him from telling his version of events (and is the reason The Stories Stars Tell became a dual perspective story). It’s also why he’s an important part in Griffin’s story. Tanner is just… is it weird to say that when I think of Tanner my heart does a little dance in my chest? Yeah. Probably. But it’s the truth.

Maxwell in The Echo of this Ghost Town did the same thing. She’s freaking amazing!! Every time I think about her, I grin. She’s strong and opinionated. She’s gutsy but vulnerable. She doesn’t have it all together, but she’s trying to figure it all out. Plus she’s got Cal (who is another of those amazing characters). When she showed up in Griffin’s story (completely unplanned and randomly stopped to talk to Griffin), I did a double-take (just like Griffin). Here’s that scene that took me by surprise:

“Hey.”

I look up at the sound of a voice, grateful to be jerked from the train of my thoughts.

The girl. She’s standing on the other side of the table in her dark t-shirt and cutoff shorts, her back to the gas pumps and road. The light from the store illuminates her, and I think she’s cute, but obviously not all there if she’s talking to a stranger.

“Yeah?”

She sits down with a Slurpee, and I look at it longingly but also wish I had some vodka to spike it with. I conjure Danny’s words from the night before. I’d told him I’m always drunk. What had he said back? “Yeah. Maybe that’s the fucking problem. It’s time to grow up, Griff.” What if I do have a problem? Then I’m annoyed by the stupid thought—of course, I don’t. What the fuck? Can’t this weird girl tell I’m busy sulking?

My face must screw up because she says, “I’m not carrying any diseases.”

I take a sip of my water, not sure what to do about this stranger who’s sat with me at a table outside of Custer’s. I glance to check if someone is playing a joke on me, but all my friends have abandoned me. So yeah, there’s that. I look at her. She’s got a round face, but it’s smooth and pleasant looking. Brownish hair, I think, because it’s pulled back in a bun or something off her face. Black eyeliner. Black T-shirt with the words Def Leppard inside a Union Jack.

She pinches the straw and moves it around the slushy. It squeaks. “Decide I’m not a serial killer?” She smirks, and my eyes are drawn to her blunt black nails at the end of her long fingers holding the red straw.

“Jury’s out.” I look away and take a sip of my water, annoyed but kind of curious.

“Why’s that?”

I shrug. “What if I’m the serial killer?” I can’t look at her, though I’m not sure why. It isn’t like I’m nervous, even if she’s a little unnerving. Why have I said that? The idea of being compared to a killer takes me backward. Griff Nichols, son of a murderer, when I’d been alone, but I’d shed that persona with my crew. I shove the reminder aside.

“It’s a distinct possibility.”

When Maxwell arrived on the page of Griffin’s story with her powerful character voice, I anticipated  that I would write another dual perspective tale.  So, as is part of my methodology,  I took the above scene and wrote it from her perspective:

Ignoring all the lessons my dad has given me that translate to talking to strangers outside of convenience stores in the middle of the night, I leave the confines of the store and approach moody boy like he’s a wild animal in the zoo. Okay, too tentative. I actually just sit down. I don’t do much with hesitancy and never have. Hesitancy hasn’t gotten me much, and besides, there isn’t time for it. Life lessons from my father haven’t been about hanging back or blending into the background. His lessons are, “go after what you want.”

Do I want this boy? Hell no, but I wouldn’t mind helping him smile. Maybe if I pay it forward, I’ll receive it in the future, you know? Like Cassie in fifth grade, who approached my lunch table where I sat alone. She sat down with me.

“Hey,” she’d said and smiled.

I’d smiled back, and it was like kismet.

I channel that moment when I sit down across from wild-animal guy. “Hey.”

He looks at me like I have two heads, his upper lip curling, and his eyebrows scrunching together. He has really nice eyes, a mix up of colors: green, gray, gold, brown. “Yeah?” Even as unattractive as that sneer is, he’s actually cute.

“I’m not carrying any diseases,” I say and draw an incredibly sweet pull of Slurpee through my straw. Strawberry, my favorite, though in a pinch I’ll drink cherry. I hate any other flavor. This delicious goodness is my secret vice. Since I’m always harping my dad about his soda habit, I can’t let him know I’m being a hypocrite with this diabetes slushie.

The guy looks around like someone might be pranking him, which makes me smile around the straw. Then he looks down at his water bottle and swirls it around a little, as if he isn’t sure what’s happening, and the water is the one place where reality exists.

I’m wondering why I haven’t done this before. His reaction is super entertaining. Then again, I don’t know him, and he could be a serial killer in training or something.

I move the straw around in the Slurpee cup so that I can sip up more of the magical unicorn goodness. It squeaks loudly, and I look at the guy. He’s just watching my movements and maybe assessing if I’m safe, which makes me say, “Decide I’m not a serial killer?”

He lifts the water bottle to his mouth, and is it terrible that I think he has a very attractive mouth? God. Upper lip has this beautiful bow shape, and the bottom is full. I imagine he’s probably a good kisser and realize I’m being creepy.

“Jury’s out,” he says.

I like his voice. Full, kind of melodious, like a ballad with one of those amazing kitschy pop riffs, but deep. Not baritone or bass deep. More like a low tenor. I wonder if he sings.

“Why’s that?” I ask.

He shrugs his sharp shoulders under his dark t-shirt. “What if I’m the serial killer?”

“It’s a distinct possibility.” I smirk at my cup.

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Max’s voice on the page was so flamboyant and powerful that it was a joy to write scenes for her, but when the narrative of In the Echo of this Ghost Town swelled to 190,000 words, I knew I had to cut, and the easiest answer was to create Max’s own story. That is how When the Echo Answers, as a companion came to be. While there are scenes common to both stories, the narrative is uniquely Max’s because Max was a unique character with her own story to tell.

The Road to Echoes: Writing Difficult Characters

I had a conversation with my friend Misty early in the drafting stage for In the Echo of this Ghost Town during one of our writing sessions. Note: she’s been a huge advocate for The Stories Stars Tell from the beginning and even featured me in a lovely conversation for her podcast Rainy Day Collective where we discussed purity culture (here’s a link if you’d like to listen to it). 

During that writing session she asked what I was working on, and when I revealed I was writing a book about Griffin, she said “What the hell for?!?!” I laughed at the time because I understood her incredulity. Seriously. Griffin was horrible in The Stories Stars Tell. Toxic as toxic can be. Now, I feel warmth in my bones because she’s read In the Echo of this Ghost Town and asked me “I don’t know how you can get me to go from hating a character to loving him. How do you do that?”

I’m not sure. I remember telling her during that same writing session that I was really struggling to develop Griffin because he was so freaking unlikeable. Look, I know this isn’t selling you on his story, but please stick with me. I think you’ll fall in love with Griffin as much as I have. And ultimately, this is a post about how sometimes we have to look closer at those difficult characters. 


While I don’t have a magic bullet, here are five things I did to excavate Griffin as a difficult character.

  1. First, I had to let go of my bias. I hated him. In The Stories Stars Tell he was such a jerk and so disrespectful to… well, everyone. There’s a scene in that book that solidified my dislike of Griffin. Tanner wrote a poem about Emma in his notebook, and Griffin makes fun of him for it. Not only did it break my heart for Tanner, but it sealed my dislike and informed every other scene moving forward with Griffin.

  2. I had to use what already existed in The Stories Stars Tell to begin to understand Griffin’s perspective. While these clues were superficial at best, they offered some perspective about Griffin’s world view. For example, Tanner mentions Griffin’s dad being in prison. He also indicates that his older brother has left. There’s a scene when Tanner arrives at Griffin’s house at noon, and Griffin is just getting out of bed. Then there are all of the moments Griffin opens his mouth and tears things apart.

  3. I started with a pivotal moment for both Tanner and Griffin—the fight. It was already drafted from Tanner's perspective, so I changed it to Griffin’s to see what would happen. My understanding of him began to shift. It made me wonder about hitting rock bottom and what would happen to someone who’s lost everything?

  4. Next I had to dig a little deeper. I started with asking questions about his family. Who were his mom and dad and brother? What was their family dynamic, and if the father was in prison, why was he there? How did that impact the family? Griffin? And what about his brother? What would it feel like to think he felt like he’d been abandoned by both his dad and his brother? How might that inform his behavior? His motives? His wants? And if his mom was never around because she was trying to hold the family together financially, how might that impact his teenage perspective? What did Tanner mean to Griffin, and how might the fight have impacted him? This exploration made me begin to see Griffin in a new light, one that made me empathize with—though not excuse—his choices.

  5. Next, because I saw a theme emerging in the character development, I began doing research about male culture, toxic masculinity, and abandonment. I’ll write more about my research in a future post, but for now, I knew I needed to ground myself in being respectful about these topics.

Developing characters is already challenging, but I find it always comes down to the question: why?  The more you’re willing to ask that question of your characters, the deeper they will take you into their motives, the roots of their own why. For the author, this only helps writing their stories. Difficult characters are no different, as long as we’re willing to ask those questions. If you’re familiar with The Cantos Chronicles, you know that I’m not a stranger to writing the difficult, morally gray character. Seth from The Ugly Truth was a villain in Swimming Sideways and The Bones of Who We Are.  So, I guess I find difficult characters interesting and challenging.

Next time: Writing Secondary Characters


The Road of Echoes: What Inspired Griffin's Story?

I can imagine your incredulity when learning that the hero of my new book was Griffin Nichols, especially if you’ve read The Stories Stars Tell. He is, after all, a villain. Except there was this moment, a single slice of something that gave me pause.

Here. Let me show you. This is a scene from The Stories Stars Tell from Tanner’s point of view. Keep an eye on Griffin (fair warning - lots of strong language):

An hour later, Griff and I are still killing shit with video game remotes from his couch. This feels normal with the stupid, meaningless banter and helps me forget what happened the night before graduation with him, with my mom, with my dad for a little while. The moment I realize it, however, I recognize the truth. Griff makes me forget, helps me run away. This feeling is temporary, because the moment I get back into my truck and drive home, it will all come rushing back. 

“Dude! What the fuck. I said to go right!” His phone chimes. He looks at it, sets it down, and resumes playing. “Danny texted there’s a party at the Quarry Friday night. Bonfire. Wanna go?”

I do. I don’t. I think about Emma and wonder if she’d want to go. “Maybe.”

“Fuck, Tanner. You didn’t even show up at Marcus’s. What the fuck is up with you? You’re acting like a bitch.”

“Stop, Griff.” I press the controller and take out a sniper.

Griff’s character moves in front of mine on the screen and uses a wall to shield him from enemy fire. My character is behind his. The character steps out and gets shot. 

Then he says, “I’m not the one who’s trailing after smarty-pants like she’s a bitch in heat. I’d never drop my boys for a chick.”

I slam the control onto the table and stand. “Shut the fuck up.” My fists are clenched.

Griff glances at my hands and leans back on the couch. “Why are you being so effin’ sensitive?”

I turn and walk to the door, afraid if I don’t put more distance between him and me, I might throw punches. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I turn around and look at him. “I thought we were friends. You were the closest thing I had to a brother.”

“That hasn’t changed.” He crosses his arms over his chest. The action strikes me as insecure, but I don’t get caught on it, too focused on what is on my mind. 

“Yeah. It has.” It’s my turn to cross my arms over my chest. “You’ve been acting like a dick for months.”

“Well if I’d known you’d get your panties in a wad, I would have talked to you more like a lady.” He laughs.

I turn away and slam out of the house.

Did you see that?!?! “...he crosses his arms over his chest…” A moment!!! A flash image of Griffin with a stronger, close-up lens. It was just an obscure line, but I wasn’t the only one who picked up on it. Lavinia (instagram friend @instaraygram), an amazing beta reader and friend, noted after reading The Stories Stars Tell, that she was curious about Griffin. “I feel like there’s a story there,” she’d said. I couldn’t shake her observation. The more I read that line (because I had to read it so many times as I edited), the more curious I became. It was as if Griffin burrowed into my brain. 

The truth, however, I didn’t want him there. I was resistant to the idea of writing Griffin’s story because I didn’t like him. How was I ever going to write a story about a character I didn't like? If I didn’t like him, neither would readers. Except there was that moment, that tiny portrait of his insecurity. Then the questions began: Why is Griffin insecure? What is he hiding behind all that douchiness?

And suddenly, I was thinking about answering those questions…

So, thanks to Lavinia, In the Echo of this Ghost Town and When the Echo Answers were born.


Next week: Writing Griffin Nichols


The Road of Echoes: New Blog Series

Fifteen weeks and a couple of days are all that remains between today and the publication of In the Echo of this Ghost Town and When the Echo Answers. Considering that each time I venture into a new story I experience the doubt and subsequent terror that I will never be able to write a book ever again, I am ecstatic that we’re moving toward the finish line. 

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I am so proud of these books. I am so proud of Griffin.

Those of you who have read The Stories Stars Tell will understand why I’m so proud, because you will recognize Griffin as a secondary character from that book. He wasn’t a likeable character in Emma’s and Tanner’s stories.  As Tanner’s best friend, Griffin did everything in his power to undermine Tanner’s growth, block the relationship, and guilt Tanner into remaining stuck within the Bro Code. 



So how does a character go from being vile to the hero of his own story?

It’s a great question, and one I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to pull off. I certainly had a ton of doubts when I first started writing it. I’m so excited to say that I did it. Griffin made it to “book boyfriend” status. I know it in my bones that’s a true statement. How did I do it?

That will be the subject of the next 9-week blog series. If you’ve ever wanted to go behind the scenes of a book, that’s where I’ll be taking you. From why I wrote the book, to research, to narrative choices, to character design, I’m going to invite you behind the scenes to look at how I created these two books. 

Be sure to join me here on the blog each Wednesday for a new installment about the creative journey from villain of The Stories Stars Tell to the hero of In the Echo of this Ghost Town and When the Echo Answers.  If you want more information, be sure to join my newsletter (which publishes the first of every month. That’s tomorrow!) There will be information about ARCs and the Pre-Order incentive.

Next week: What inspired me to take a closer look at Griffin as a possible hero for his own story.