I am getting my mind ready to write.
In November I will do my second NaNoWriMo.
What happened to that first amazing novel?
It languishes on my laptop, wishing I would both finish it and mightily edit it. The novel and I both know (as do the characters, each and every one of them) that there is a wonderful, fun, interesting story started here. We understand that some major changes are required to remove the rambling, the nonsense, the back-story, the long paragraphs that don't really drive movement, the flowing descriptions of the landscape that can wait.
It is clear that the reading now is painful - but
the bones of the story are exceptionally white, amazingly strong.
We know that there is more pain and choice and LIFE that can be added. More growth and depth.
Much more work is needed here. We need a focused editing month.
And so, as we prepare for November, instead of planning on a deep dive into that first story, I am already off, thinking about the new story. Preparing the outline. Thinking about interviews. Considering the background. Building excitement and suspense in my mind.
Why would I leave the first for the second?
Planned novel 2 has been a story idea in my mind for several years. The time has come to write it. The story will be a romance loosely based on reality - and so now is the time to talk to the folks that were involved, to make sure that the sense of reality is included - or not included - appropriately.
I am inspired.
Inspired to do the research.
And also....
concerned
about doing the research.
Why?
To do the honest research, I have to ask some very difficult questions of some loved ones. I need to put people on the spot.
Get folks to talk about things they want to forget.
Understand the real story, so I can create the fictional one
with all the underlying solidity.
At least, I think that's what I need to do.
The research.
Maybe...maybe I can just make it up.
But oh, I feel the desire...to write...and I want to write
the truth of it.
***
In Paradise there are no stories, because there are no journeys.
It’s loss and regret and misery and yearning that drive the story forward, along its twisted road.
***
– Margaret Atwood
[from The Blind Assassin]
In November I will do my second NaNoWriMo.
What happened to that first amazing novel?
It languishes on my laptop, wishing I would both finish it and mightily edit it. The novel and I both know (as do the characters, each and every one of them) that there is a wonderful, fun, interesting story started here. We understand that some major changes are required to remove the rambling, the nonsense, the back-story, the long paragraphs that don't really drive movement, the flowing descriptions of the landscape that can wait.
It is clear that the reading now is painful - but
the bones of the story are exceptionally white, amazingly strong.
We know that there is more pain and choice and LIFE that can be added. More growth and depth.
Much more work is needed here. We need a focused editing month.
And so, as we prepare for November, instead of planning on a deep dive into that first story, I am already off, thinking about the new story. Preparing the outline. Thinking about interviews. Considering the background. Building excitement and suspense in my mind.
Why would I leave the first for the second?
Planned novel 2 has been a story idea in my mind for several years. The time has come to write it. The story will be a romance loosely based on reality - and so now is the time to talk to the folks that were involved, to make sure that the sense of reality is included - or not included - appropriately.
I am inspired.
Inspired to do the research.
And also....
concerned
about doing the research.
Why?
To do the honest research, I have to ask some very difficult questions of some loved ones. I need to put people on the spot.
Get folks to talk about things they want to forget.
Understand the real story, so I can create the fictional one
with all the underlying solidity.
At least, I think that's what I need to do.
The research.
Maybe...maybe I can just make it up.
But oh, I feel the desire...to write...and I want to write
the truth of it.
***
In Paradise there are no stories, because there are no journeys.
It’s loss and regret and misery and yearning that drive the story forward, along its twisted road.
***
– Margaret Atwood
[from The Blind Assassin]
