creativity

A Year of Yes: What NaNoWriMo gave me as an author—and a person

Christa Avampato

I’m so honored to be featured on the National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) blog. With their support and encouragement, I took an outline and turned it into a published novel, Emerson Page and Where the Light Enters. You can check out the full post at http://blog.nanowrimo.org/post/170689401897/what-nanowrimo-gave-me-as-an-authorand-a-person. Here is the text as well:

The road from plotless to polished to published can be long and filled with potholes (and plot holes). But, as NaNo participants continue to prove, it can be traversed. Today, author Christa Avampato shares her story of how she turned an outline into a published book:

In the five years after I survived an apartment building fire on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, I sketched the outline of my novel, Emerson Page and Where the Light Enters. That fire was a turning point for me, as a person and as a writer. It also plays a prominent role in Emerson’s story.

On November 1, 2014, I set a goal to transform my outline into a 50,000-word first draft in thirty days as part of NaNoWriMo. It seemed impossible, but I was constantly encouraged by the supports that NaNoWriMo offers: webinars, blog posts by authors I admired, writing prompts, social messages, and special offers for books and tools.

My first draft was terrible, but I’ve never been prouder of something so awful.

Over the next two years, I completed a dozen more drafts of Emerson’s story. New characters, plot lines, and settings emerged. Save for Emerson, the story was almost unrecognizable two years later. I got feedback from several close and brutally honest friends. I agonized over every word. It is the toughest job I ever loved.

“If you are willing to do the hard work of recognizing your wounds, if you write your truth through programs like NaNoWriMo, even if your voice shakes and sputters […] there is so much light that awaits you. ”

Still, Emerson continued her incessant tap, tap, tapping on my shoulder because it was time to get her story published. I queried agents, and received fourteen rejections—and those were just the ones who bothered to respond at all! One of them, my dream agent, responded with the loveliest rejection. Twelve were form letters. One particularly prickly agent responded in less than five minutes with a one word email: No.

I’m not kidding. That actually happened.

I finally found a happy medium when I began to explore independent publishers. Six months after querying my first independent publisher, one of them accepted the book.

When you launch a book, you launch a brand and a business. I completed several full edits in 2017 with the assistance of two editors. Then I hired the artists and art directed the cover art myself. With my MBA and business experience, I put together a marketing plan, and began to work that plan every day.

On November 1, 2017, I became a published author. Emerson left the safety of my care and ventured out into the world wrapped in paperback and eBook formats on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and in independent bookstores across the globe. It’s no coincidence that Emerson’s birthday was exactly three years after I started writing the draft of her story during NaNoWriMo 2014.

And on her birthday, I began writing the draft of her second book as part of NaNoWriMo 2017. That supportive tribe of fearless writers with impossible goals was there for me again, just as they were in 2014.

Emerson and I stand before you as an unfailing reminder that if you are willing to do the hard work of recognizing your wounds, if you write your truth through programs like NaNoWriMo, even if your voice shakes and sputters, if you will honor the cracks in you rather than trying to spackle them shut, there is so much light that awaits you.

That’s the greatest lesson that NaNoWriMo and Emerson taught me: that light will flood your mind, heart, and hands in a way that you never imagined possible. That light, however small, lives in you now. Your only job is to fan it into a flame that the whole world can see through the masterpiece that is your life and your writing. You matter. Your story matters. It matters so damn much.

I can’t wait to read your book.

creativity

A Year of Yes: Finally getting to the Galápagos Islands

Christa Avampato
jeremy-bishop-136677
Photo by Jeremy Bishop on Unsplash

My Year of Yes in 2018 is translating into lifelong travel dreams come true. Looks like I’m destined to visit the Galápagos Islands in the Fall. Ideas, suggestions, recommendations for my itinerary? Don’t be shy! Come at me!

creativity

A Year of Yes: Spontaneous marriage proposal in Central Park

Christa Avampato

On my way to work, I walked right into a marriage proposal complete with Bruno Mars music and dancing. Obviously the person doing the proposing and the friends did a lot of planning. For the crowd, and the person being proposed to, this was very spontaneous! It made my morning. I love love. And he said yes.

 

creativity

A Year of Yes: Live the life you imagine

Christa Avampato

“Live out of your imagination, not your history.” ~Stephen Covey

What if today you decided, just for a day, to live the life you imagine rather than the life that’s dictated by your past? What if you could drop the boxes you’ve put yourself in, the labels you’ve adopted (willingly or unwillingly), and all of the can’ts, don’ts, and shouldn’ts that have been impressed upon you? What would you? How would your life change?

creativity

A Year of Yes: Going for broke

Christa Avampato

A couple of weeks ago, my friend, Ken, was telling me about his current project and how it came to be. Someone asked him what he needed to bring his vision to life, and he went for broke. He laid it all on the line, didn’t pull any punches, and went for it. I decided to follow his lead.

Last week I was scheduled to have a conversation that I was nervous about having. I wasn’t sure what to expect, what to ask, or what the outcome would be. I knew what I needed the outcome to be, but I really had no idea how to get there. I knew a lot of people were counting on me to come through for them; I wanted to do right by them. I tried to prepare for it, create a presentation, or at the very least get down a set of bullet points. I stared at my screen and then at a piece of paper, and drew a blank. I would have to go with the flow; I had no choice.

It went fine, better than fine, better than I could have imagined. In the moment, I was asked what I needed and I laid it out clearly, reasonably, and without hesitation. If you’re trying to prepare for something, and the preparation just won’t come, maybe that’s a sign that you don’t need any preparation. Maybe you already have all the words you need.

creativity

A Year of Yes: My art submission for #PowerToThePolls

Christa Avampato

During my Year of Yes, I decided to submit more of my collage work for contest consideration. Today I put together my Power To The Polls submission for the open call for art being run by Amplifier. What do you think?

The Modern Woman

The Modern Woman

 

creativity

A Year of Yes: Life is a long shot

Christa Avampato

Everything in life is a long shot. Nothing is easy. Everything worth doing takes time, effort, and passion. And this idea is freeing, not stifling. If it’s all difficult, then you might as well do what you love.

creativity

A Year of Yes: Write the book you want to read

Christa Avampato

“How did you know what to write about that would sell?” someone asked me this week.

“I didn’t write a book that would sell,” I said. “I wrote the book I wanted to read.”

“But didn’t you look at trends?” he asked me.

“I started writing my book eight years ago,” I said. “Trends from eight years ago wouldn’t have helped me today.”

He was frustrated. He wanted a silver bullet, and there just isn’t one when it comes to any kind of creative work. All you can do is follow your curiosity, do your research, listen, and then get it all down as well and as honestly as you can.

You absolutely cannot make everyone happy. Some people will want the book to go faster, and others will want it to go slower. Some people will want more detail, and others will want less. Some people will say the book is too long while others will stay it’s too short. It’s all incredibly subjective.

Just know this—over the course of writing, rewriting, editing, and publishing your work, you will read / view / listen to it dozens of times. Maybe hundreds of time. You have to nurture it, love it, and then give it all away for someone else to interpret. That is the rub of creative work—you pour everything you have into it, and then it belongs to the world. It is all a labor of love.

creativity

A Year of Yes: Don’t Hide the Madness

Christa Avampato

“Follow your inner moonlight; don’t hide the madness.” ~Allen Ginsberg

This week as the host of a live storytelling show, I was there as an orchestrator and doing tiny bits between our featured storytellers. Rather than overly rehearse them (as is my usual MO) I decided to be a bit more improvisational with them.

This is not my style. I like to be on point, suited up, and prepared for every eventuality. I hope for the best, and expect the worst. It’s how I survive in a mad, mad world. Some say it’s part of my charm; others say it’s part of my neurosis. Either way, that’s me.

And despite it being against my nature, I will admit that ad-libbing was actually fun. It was freeing (if a wee bit frightening) to just be able to listen, enjoy the stories, and respond. It’s a healthy thing to follow you inner moonlight, to let your madness have some time to the spotlight once in a while. Give it some room to breathe and explore. It’s interesting to see what it finds.

creativity

A Year of Yes: Sometimes all you can do is breathe

Christa Avampato

“I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am.” ~Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

The stresses of life pile up from time to time. These last few weeks were a little rocky. Stress at work. Apartment issues. The nerves associated with putting on a live show in New York City on a cold Monday night in January. A really not-great date. Not enough time to write. One afternoon, I was sitting with all of that and I realized I was holding my breath. This is what I do with stress. I get very still. I get quiet. I hold. I wait.

I’ve found that the breath is the beginning and end of everything for me. A thought. A feeling. An action. A reaction. If I can get my breath moving, my spirit comes back to life. Then the mind. Then the body. And if I can keep the breath going, these pieces of me begin to work together. It’s a slow but reliable process.

Sometimes breathing moment to moment is what I can do. Sometimes it’s all I can do. And that’s enough. That’s the seed where solutions begin. And I always have access to it. It’s always an option, and so I take it.