National novel-writing contest challenges UNL students

The sickly sweet stench of incense burned itself into Aldemeus' mind like a poison. A sick, soul-wrenching poison for which he had no cure. A dull sound pervaded the whole place, the sound of distant thunder. Not of any mortal kind, though. No. He knew better than to imagine that any mortal hand could wreak such chaos.

Nick Marten has never written science fiction before - that is, until this month.

Marten, a senior English major at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln, decided to join 115,000 individuals around the world and participate in national novel writing month - NaNoWriMo. The challenge: write a 50,000-word novel in a month.

So in addition to 12 hours of classes, 15 hours of work and another novel, Marten has devoted himself to writing his sci-fi adventure. This is the second time Martin has participated in NaNoWriMo; the first time, he said, he only got about 5,000 words in.

Right now, he has about 20,000 words.

"I decided to challenge myself, so I decided to write sci-fi, which I never do," he said. "It's grueling. I know nothing about the genre, and if someone reads it, they will probably never stop laughing."

He won't defend his novel at all - he doesn't call it good and doesn't plan to show it to anyone if he finishes. He said he would share the story's prologue - the novel doesn't have a name yet - because he's proudest of it.

"My Lord," she whispered, bowing her head. She was careful, he noted, to avoid so much as glancing at the emblem on his cloak. "It is almost time. Shall I summon Lord fel Orine? He has requested that we contact him when the time was near."

A NaNoWriMo novel doesn't have to be a good novel, according to www.nanowrimo.org; it just has to be a novel-length piece of fiction. Fiction is a loose word.

"If you think it's a novel, we think it's a novel," said Lindsey Grant, a community liaison for the Office of Letters and Light, the non-profit organization responsible for NaNoWriMo. "We end up getting a pretty amazing and diverse group of fiction. People take it and run."

Although writing a 50,000-word novel sounds difficult, she said feedback is always really positive.

"So many people say this has ‘completely changed my life,' that they've always wanted to write and (NaNoWriMo) gave them permission to," she said.

Grant is participating in NaNoWriMo for the first time and said she finally understands the writers' comments.

"I had a different idea for a story midnight, Oct. 31, and it's gone in a completely different direction," she said. "There's been very little influence on my part. It's an incredible amount of fun."

The door hissed open, sucking some of the heat and the incense out into the hall with it. Two guards preceded Kenkela into the room, garbed in rust-hued ceremonial plate armor and iridescent saelswords, each face as grim as the other. Behind them, swathed in a ruffled doublet and ruffled white shirt, was Lord Kenkela fel Orine himself.

"They put forth the argument that if you're going to do it, you should just sit down and do it," Marten said. "When you have a half a million other people doing it, it pushes you a little bit."

The word quota is 1,666 a day, but Marten does most of his writing on Sundays. Right now, he is about 5,000 words behind where he should be.

"I write a lot in my spare time, so writing a lot of words isn't a huge deal," he said. "It's just that it's a genre I don't know, and it's the busiest month of the year."

He paused.

"It's a lot of quote-fun-end quote. I could easily live with myself if I gave up."

"Has she given birth yet?" Kenkela asked, his voice echoing in the silent room. "Has my child drawn breath?"

Aldemeus shook his head. "Moments left, Father. You have arrived just in time."

"Sci-fi has a lot of clichés and archetypes and conventions. I'm probably horribly abusing the genre," Marten said. "I'm not really up on science, per se. It's more like fiction with what I think is science, like spaceships and stuff."

Marten chose science fiction to expand his horizons as a writer. He said he thinks writers who stay safe in one genre probably aren't good or strong writers.

As with any story he works on, he's always thinking about what's next. If he has an idea, he'll jump on the nearest computer and write it down. If there are no computers, then he pulls out his notebook and jots it down or draws it out.

"I intend to finish it," he said of his NaNoWriMo novel. "I don't know if the story will be wrapped up (by Nov. 30). That's another thing. Can I tell a complete and cool epic story in 50,000 words?"

Another pause.

"I need to stop introducing new characters."

If there were one truest emotion, it would be fear. Fear of making mistakes, or punishment. Or failing to do what is one's fate. The Cerindu teach that there is justice in the world, that it is the just who triumph. But in this dark place, whose only choir was that of a newborn whose life was numbered in minutes, it seemed impossible that justice could ever be served.

No, there was no justice here but that of the Pure of Blood.

kiahhaslett@dailynebraskan.com