I listen to both the NY Times Book Review podcast and the Guardian Books podcast. I enjoy them both—they pop up in my listening list and I am pleased, filled with the anticipation of delight and inspiration. But they are quite different, and I think their differences might be instructive.

The Guardian Books podcast always makes me want to read the books they are discussing. The speakers are, at heart, readers, readers talking about books they love—or sometimes books about which they disagree. The show often covers the long and short lists and then winners of the major literary prizes, such as the Booker.

The NY Times Book Review podcast usually has one or two relatively serious interviews and then a look at the (dying?) publishing industry in the U.S. and a review of the bestseller lists, which change almost not at all. The speakers are disparaging about the bestsellers, and therefore the millions who make them, but still they include the material every week.

Don’t get me wrong; I like listening to the bestsellers conversation, much as I enjoy reading US Magazine at my dentist’s office. I suppose I have an attitude similar to the editors who are having the conversation on the podcast.

But it does make me long to live in a country where the celebrities and the literary writers are one and the same.

My youngest son has apparently learned the word, “Shit.” Not sure where. Must be the babysitter. Or Grandma. Sh*t! Now he is holding the dustpan, which is about the same size as himself, and saying the offending word again and again.

In other news, today is my birthday and the day before my sudden marriage, and in honor of these occasions, I am giving away two spaces in my amazing course. It is not terribly immodest of me to say this because the course includes an amazing community which we’ve already started to build this month in the Framing Your Book stage. It also includes technique boosts, inspiration and encouragement, coaching and emergency aid.

For the first month, you can and should also sign up for NaNoWriMo, which will help you get through your first 50,000 words. Then Gathering Your Materials will keep on going until you have a full-length book manuscript. And whatever the condition of that manuscript–don’t worry: from mid-January through February, I will offer a revision course.

Here’s the thing: most people secretly want to write a book. Some of those people have never written a thing and others have published, but still it’s sort of a secret. Like calling your own course amazing, admitting you want to write a novel in a country that doesn’t greatly value art carries with it a bit of shame, I suppose.

When I was about thirty, I started taking hip hop dance classes. I am pretty bad at it, and I was taking the classes in New York, where other participants included chorus dancers for Broadway shows and serious club folk who tear up dance floors on a regular basis. As I danced with my mirror-image, I often found myself saying to myself, “I can write. I can write.” But by the time I was thirty, I knew that life was too short to do only those things I was good at. I had to dance, whether I could or not.

So should you write a novel whether you can or not. But everyone needs that guy or gal at the front of the classroom showing them the steps–again and again and one more time. For Gathering Your Materials, I am going to be that person–through podcasts, online forums and Skype phone calls. Yes–we have folks in Georgia, Los Angeles and Emeryville in our group. (Note bene: I will not wear any spandex, which even online would not be a pretty sight.)

So . . . throw your hat into this novel-writing circus ring. ALL you have to do is post a comment, and I will put your name in a hat, and draw out two lucky winners who will be inundated with inspiration and creative encouragement for six weeks. You know you have a book in you. I know you have a book in you. (Angie adds: This is a cheaper way to get it out than going to the doctor . . . )

Tell your mother. Tell your co-worker. Tell your favorite writer.

Sure, sometimes, like Charlie, you’ll find yourself saying, “Shit, shit, shit” for the sheer pleasure of the sound or the reaction on the faces of the people around you. Sometimes, you’ll be saying, “I can dance” or “I can run a seven-minute mile” or “I can tell you everything you’ve ever wanted to know about Grey’s Anatomy.” Sometimes, just sometimes, you’ll think, “This is amazing.”

“Whatever works” is the motto of the six-week-novel.

You have until Oct. 24 to post your comment, and then the winners will be declared. Go on. I dare you. Get ready to write your book.