I have 94 days left.
I’ve used up six.
I’m writing a book.
Day One was deciding to write it. Completed by lunch.
Day Two was carving out specific times to write. I made a schedule.
On Day Three I was supposed to decide what to write about. And I did.
Day Four was more of the same which was good because I actually hadn’t really decided on Day Three.
Day Five was advice. “Do not bore the reader.”
Today is Day Six. Dissect a book you love. See what makes it tick. I picked The Catcher in the Rye and have fallen in love with Holden Caulfield for the twenty-third time. “I was wondering where the ducks went when the lagoon got all icy and frozen over. I was wondering if some guy came in a truck and took them away to a zoo or something. Or if they just flew away.”
I’m going to tell you something.
I’m a little scared. I don’t need a pep talk or a pat on the back. But holy fucking shit, when writing matters, it’s terrifying.
I bet you knew that already though.
Letters are my currency. It’s comfortable to live inside them. To let them drip from my fingertips. I’ve been doing this since I could. Writing on wide ruled paper with a pencil as round as a popsicle. Telling myself stories so I could fall asleep at night. But.
Dang.
This idea. This story. It’s personal. It’s humbling. My antagonist is my real life dark cloud. To give that face and voice and body. To say hello? To invite it in?
I don’t know.
Tomorrow is Day Seven. “If you create a story that has real meaning to you, chances are it will have real meaning for the rest of us.”
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9 comments:
Oh, scary.
I love words and letters just like you, but I have a block to long-story-writing and that is that you have to make bad things happen to your good characters, you have to invite catastrophe, you have to make danger to make drama (just ask Dr House).
And I hate thinking about that stuff.
It is going to be great. This I know.
Recently someone in my writing group said "I'm having a hard time putting tension in my writing. How do I do that?" and someone else answered "You scare the shit out of yourself."
So that's how you know you're doing it right. At least that's what I tell myself.
Naomi: I totally get that!
Sprizee: You are always so nice to me!!
Heather: I love that advice. Love. It.
Aww, I would kill to have someone give me a broken Little Shirley Beans record. Or go to Radio City Music Hall and watch the guy with the kettle drum... he only gets to bang them a couple times during the show, but when he does he gets this peaceful look on his face...
You HAD to bring up Holden, didn't ya. Sigh. Now I'll be thinking of Holdenisms all night. (Which is not all that bad, really...!)
Lisa: I've been thinking like Holden all week - everything is phoney and suddenly goddamn is making a comback in my vocabulary.
I cannot wait for Day 8. Please, what will happen?
I'm not going to do the math but I know you have less than 94 days now. How's it going?
I've always loved reading. And I've always loved the thought of being a writer or Harriet the spy and keeping a journal - but that part doesn't work for me (although i still try), so I will continue to visit you and other writers.
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