Writers race against the clock in the 3-Day Novel Contest.

Credit: Doug Shanks

ON THE COVER: Write of Passage

Over Labour Day weekend, most of us plan to head out of town, fire up the barbeque, spend time at the beach, hit the clubs for fresh tourist meat, just sleep in — nothing too strenuous. But for a small coterie of the literary-minded, the last holiday of summer will be spent indoors, wrestling with words and ideas. Hunched over computers screens in Vancouver, across Canada, and in some 20-plus countries around the globe, these aspiring authors have voluntarily signed on for a 72-hour marathon of daunting proportions: the 3-Day Novel Contest (3DNC).

Begun in 1977 by Vancouver-based indie publisher Arsenal Pulp Press, 3DN bounced around to a few different local publishers until 2004, when Toronto-based publisher Barbara Zatyko and Vancouver-based managing editor Melissa Edwards volunteered to take over the competition. The pair subsequently launched the contest’s own imprint, 3-Day Books, which publishes the winning novel — after it’s run through a tiered jury system by a panel of 25 judges from the writing and publishing communities. (Full disclosure: I was one of the judges in 2009.)

Publication may be the first prize, but, like any other endurance-based contest, few sign up expecting to limp off with the top honour. For the rest, merely participating is a reward in itself.

Inspirational platitudes don’t go far enough in answering the ultimate question, however: What kind of people voluntarily cloister themselves over a long weekend (from 12:01 a.m. Saturday to 11:59 on Monday) in order to produce what will be, in almost every case, a rough first draft of a novella that will never see the light of day? WE tracked down three competitors — past and present — to find out.

THE NEWBIE

Name: Lima Al-Azzeh
Age: 25
Neighbourhood: North Vancouver

A former intern at Arsenal Pulp Press, Al-Azzeh works as an associate editor for a freelancing website and has started a blog (iVancouverite.com) in her spare time. But even with those outlets, she admits to having never written a whole piece. Goaded into signing up by a tweet asking for first-timers, she says she was attracted to the competition by the romance of writing a novel under a serious time constraint. “I’ve always wanted to be the kind of person who could lock herself away for a few days and just spew beautifully poetic prose,” she says. Another reason is overcoming creative inertia. “Sadly, I’m just as much a procrastinator as most other people,” she admits. “I knew that committing to this contest would force me to just put my head down and write.”

Having “kindly” instructed her mother, with whom she lives, to leave her completely alone for the duration of the weekend, Al-Azzeh sees herself leaving the confines of her house — and her mother’s well-meaning concern — to write from the corner coffee shop, perhaps “with a Do Not Disturb sign hanging around my neck,” she jokes.

If it all goes according to Al-Azzeh’s (admittedly loose) plan, her character-driven submission will read along the lines of Tess of the d’Urbervilles meets A Confederacy of Dunces. Ambition may be fueling her, but it’s of a personal nature. “I’m not all that focused on winning,” she says. “Naturally, it would be awesome, but I’m really just looking to actually, for once, finish something that I started — inasmuch as a novel can be ‘finished’ in three days. I hope that this piece will grow and evolve. I see it as a good start and a good way to prove to myself that yes, I can do this.”

THE VETERAN

Name: Kimberly Davidson
Age: 42
Neighbourhood: Commercial Drive area

A management and non-profit consultant, and a self-described “aspiring writer,” Davidson entered the 3DNC for the first time in 2004 while recuperating from a miscarriage. Every year since, she’s given up her Labour Day weekend — and time with her husband — to write, eventually earning a spot on the 3DNC’s 2009 shortlist for her novel, Jabula. “For me, it was like winning,” she says of the recognition. “I had a smile on my face for days, and have the certificate posted on my office wall.”

After completing her first 3DNC, Davidson challenged herself to do it again the following year. On her third outing, she began to visualize getting her work in print. The year after that, she saw the contest as an opportunity to flesh out some ideas she had banging around in her head. By the fifth year, she says, she had fallen in love with process, and her stories had greatly improved. “For me, anyway,” she explains, adding “and perhaps as evidenced by [last year’s] honourable mention.”

From the sanctum of her home office, c Davidson prepares for the contest diligently. Reference materials and notes are gathered together, food is prepared in advance, iPod playlists are set, and, in a nod to the “balance” she claims works best for her, she goes to bed early on Friday night, preferring to lose a few hours in favour of a good night’s rest.

Like most every writer slaving in front of an empty Word document, Davidson dreams of a 20- to 30-book career, complete with movie adaptations. She nonetheless insists she’ll be happy with a much more modest outcome. “I will still write because I am a writer and that is what I do,” she says. “The writing is the pleasure, the writing is the result, the writing is the reward, no matter what comes after.”

THE (ACCIDENTAL) WINNER

Name: Brendan McLeod
Age: 30
Neighbourhood: East Vancouver

A performance poet, storyteller, and musician, McLeod surprised himself more than anyone else when his a dark coming-of-age comedy, The Convictions of Leonard McKinley, won the 2006 3DNC. Egged on by his then-girlfriend, who had enteredwith a friend, McLoed says he signed up out of a feeling of group solidarity. “I had just started working full-time as a writer,” he says via e-mail while on tour. “I would have felt like a jerk watching my girlfriend and her friend slave away for three days while I sat on my ass eating Cheetos or something.”
Faced with the daunting task of finishing a novel in 72 hours, McLeod’s first instinct was to go to bed. “I figured there was no point in getting tired,” he remembers. “So, I got home and went to sleep right away. I slept for eight hours and started writing.”
Over the course of the competition, McLeod ingested so much caffeine that he began to suffer from delusions. Highs during which he was convinced his work blew Hemmingway’s out of the water were followed by brooding lows, intensified by his girlfriend and her best friend cracking up at their own jokes. “I hated every minute of it,” he says of the experience. “I tried to quit three times, but my girlfriend called me a baby and a wimp and a coward, so I was forced to continue.”
Eventually, McLeod’s delusions, comibned with long naps and procrastination, took their toll. His original story outline followed its titular lead character until he was 45. McLeod — and, therefore, McKinley — never made it that far. “I ran out of time,” he explains, “so he only made it to 21.”
Putting the dreaded experience behind him, McLeod was convinced the phone call telling him he had won — which didn’t come until months later — was a joke his girlfriend was playing on him. “I was just hoping to get a quick rough draft done,” he says of the competition. “And [the 3DNC] is very good for that. At the end of it, that’s what you have. You haven’t showered in three days, but you do have a manuscript.”

The 3-Day Novel Contest takes place Sept. 4-6. For more information or to enter online, visit 3DayNovel.com.