National Novel Writing Month starts on Thursday. For some, that label is quite literal; for the past several years, this organization has sponsored an event in which participants attempt to write an entire 50,000 word novel in a month. That means you, sitting down at your computer, and pounding out an average of 1666 words a day (or about 1950 words if you take Sundays off) to finish a short novel (about 200 pages) by the end of November.

If this seems, well--insane, it strikes me as being a lot easier than, say, becoming a contestant on either "The Biggest Loser" or "Survivor," entering the 12 week body-building makeover contest offered annually by the author of some book I own (but can't recall the name of right now), or finding a video game system for under $500. I did a test the other night, and 1600 words only works out to two pages on my word processor (in fact, two pages actually comes out to around 1700 words).
The goal of the event is to finish the novel and hit the minimum word count, rather than to strive for literary greatness. It's actually not a bad plan. As the official NaNoWriMo website says,

There will be much execrable prose, yes. But amidst the crap, there will be beauty. A lot of it...Art for art's sake does wonderful things to you. It makes you laugh. It makes you cry. It makes you want to take naps and go places wearing funny pants. Doing something just for the hell of it is a wonderful antidote to all the chores and "must-dos" of daily life. Writing a novel in a month is both exhilarating and stupid, and we would all do well to invite a little more spontaneous stupidity into our lives.

This past year I've been learning Spanish, for much the same reason (or lack of a reason). I think it's very positive and useful to do something or learn something with no readily discernible justification. Certainly, doing something for a good reason is important, but doing something for no reason is one of the things that sets us apart from the lower creatures. I can now order a beer and ask where the restroom is in Spanish; I also know more profanity in that beautiful language than is strictly necessary for me to navigate the waters of life.

Down the road, there will be good things I can do with somewhat more Spanish than I speak at present--help young mothers fill out forms for assistance at the ministry where my wife volunteers, or help immigrants with their taxes--but for now, learning a new language because it's challenging and beautiful isn't a bad place to start.

Neither is writing a novel because it's there--or at least it will be, when I've finished it. So, I'm taking the plunge. I've signed up to write my novel next month, I've put a banner up here saying I'm participating and I look forward to creating some execrable prose, and perhaps a little beauty, too.

I think that doing something just for the sake of doing it is not only good but can be godly. God didn't create us because he needed us; he created us because he felt like it. To me, that is one of the most daunting and wonderful things about trying to understand him. God looked at his creation and saw that it was good. It wasn't useful or expedient, and it didn't fill a need in him. There is no us-shaped-hole in God. I Am who Am is perfectly content to go on just Being, but for reasons we'll really never fathom, he decided to invite us to the party. It is the extravagant and unnecessary beauty of creation that, to me, is one of its best attributes.

Are we alone in the universe? Only God (and his agents, I suppose) know the answer. I think the bigger question to ponder is: even if we aren't, why is there so much more real estate than a billion earths could ever use, need, or explore? We haven't found the limits of the universe; most likely we never will, because it is, as far as we know, infinite. If it's not, there's something even bigger, more mind-boggling, and beautifully unnecessary waiting beyond its borders. Either way, creation never will never cease to be one glorious, cosmic kick in the pants.

The Canticle of the Sun

by St. Francis of
Assisi

Most high, all powerful, all good Lord! All praise is yours, all glory, all
honor, and all blessing. To you, alone, Most High, do they belong. No mortal
lips are worthy to pronounce your name.

Be praised, my Lord, through all your creatures, especially through my
lord Brother Sun, who brings the day; and you give light through him. And he is
beautiful and radiant in all his splendor! Of you, Most High, he bears the
likeness.

Be praised, my Lord, through Sister Moon and the stars; in the heavens you
have made them, precious and beautiful.

Be praised, my Lord, through Brothers Wind and Air, and clouds and storms,
and all the weather, through which you give your creatures sustenance.

Be praised, My Lord, through Sister Water; she is very useful, and humble,
and precious, and pure.

Be praised, my Lord, through Brother Fire, through whom you brighten the
night. He is beautiful and cheerful, and powerful and strong.

Be praised, my Lord, through our sister Mother Earth, who feeds us and
rules us, and produces various fruits with colored flowers and herbs.

Be praised, my Lord, through those who forgive for love of you; through those
who endure sickness and trial. Happy those who endure in peace, for by you, Most
High, they will be crowned.

Be praised, my Lord, through our Sister Bodily Death, from whose embrace no
living
person can escape. Woe to those who die in mortal sin! Happy those
she finds doing your most holy will. The second death can do no harm to them.

Praise and bless my Lord, and give thanks, and serve him with great humility.