Reaching for the Impossible
So What Happened with the 13 Day Horror Novella Challenge?
First an Anecdote:
“Why would I do something when I know I won’t win?”
When I was a Theatre teacher, one assignment I taught was called The Impossible Task. The goal was for one actor to focus and fully commit to a nearly impossible task, while the other actor observed and made truthful comments. It was a lot of fun.
One day, a student was struggling with the concept. I explained it once, then again. Finally, they said, “I understand what you are saying, but why would I try to do something when I know I won’t win?”
First: that’s a valid question.
Second: personality type plays a big part in this.
Third: that moment and that question stuck with me.
The acting exercise and the novella contest were never about winning, but about what would be gained from the challenge.
So this essay will land differently with you depending on which side of the coin you identify with. You either identify with me—it’s not about the actual outcome, but about the lesson and the reach. Or you identify with the student—why not do something you know you could actually accomplish. Neither is wrong… No no, neither is wrong.
For me, the reach has always mattered. I’ll never be a supermodel, but I still go to the gym. I’ll never sing at the Grammys, but I still write songs and sing. I’ll never be Stephen King, but that won’t stop me from writing and publishing scary stories.
So you can probably guess that I knew from the start that finishing, editing, and polishing a 20,000-word novella in 13 days was a long shot. Not impossible, but close enough that most people would’ve laughed and scrolled on.
Maybe I would have too, but Stephen Graham Jones was attached to the project. Jones wrote my favorite novel of 2025, The Buffalo Hunter Hunter. I’d just finished my latest project, so I could spare thirteen creative days. Plus, if I finished the novella, there was a 1 in 100 chance I could win $1,000, and I needed a new laptop. Not to mention, an idea I’d had seven months earlier started waving its unformed arms for my attention. That’s when my brain shoved everything off my mental desk and whispered, let’s just see what happens.
And I did. For six days, I was on fire. By Day 7, I thought I might actually finish. On Day 8, life and tech glitches started to interfere, but neither stopped me because I was committed to seeing it through. Day 12, I had to buy a new computer, but I still managed to hit 23,000 words. The first draft was complete! But a first draft wasn’t enough to submit to a contest, especially one judged by Stephen Graham Jones, so on the thirteenth night, I called it.
I failed.
Honestly, I was a little bummed and exhausted.
But here’s the thing: I walked away with a new story that didn’t exist before. I walked away with a new laptop, thanks to my ten-year-old computer dying on Day 12. And I walked away with some new social media followers. I proved I could still push myself in ways I didn’t think possible.
That’s the thing about nearly impossible goals: they’re worth reaching for even if you don’t “get there.” Because sometimes the reaching is the point. I failed the challenge. But I walked away with a new story, a new laptop, and the reminder that failure doesn’t scare me. What scares me is being afraid to try.
Newly Released Books by Marc Monroe