So, is it possible to write a novel in eight weeks? Day One of my endeavor begins... →[More:]
Faulkner wrote
As I Lay Dying in six weeks, and Hurston
Their Eyes Were Watching God in about the same, but I'm no Faulkner or Zora Neale Hurston.
It's unrealistic for me to think I can finish this novel, which I've been stewing over for several years (yes folks, she said
years), in a mere eight weeks (I go back to teaching on August 31st).
Last summer, I never got off Chapter One. It's a helluva good chapter, though, that I'll probably cut. (It did get me into the 92nd Street Y novel workshop, which I paid for to the tune of $450 and didn't attend; I mainly wanted to see if I could get in, but like an idiot, I paid the $450).
This book needs to come out. I feel
very pregnant. I have over twenty detailed chapter sketches and an overall story flow-chart (I'm mostly a feel-as-you-go writer, but with a novel, it's good to have a few star charts handy). There are several more projects in a holding pattern. I'm getting old. It may never happen. Scary. On the other hand, I know it doesn't matter all that much, one way or the other, in the larger scheme of things. It doesn't really matter to anyone but me and those close to me. It's just something I'd like to do.
So, I'm here at what may become my home-away-from-home for the summer: Starbucks. Blasphemy to some, including my beloved, I know, evil corporation, yes, but it's air conditioned, and they have nice little tables (not to mention t-mobile) and a perfect-height counter I can stand at if my belly cramps from too much sitting, and the come and go of people is soothing. A corner in Queens is not quite Paris, but it'll do.
Wish me luck, folks. Today is a new day. No one can help someone write a novel, I realize; a novel, I read once, and truly believe, is like setting out solo in a rowboat across the Atlantic. All anyone can really do is wave. Still, a little MeCha company along the way is a good thing (there's wireless at sea, right?). Shared experiences, advice, support, grant money (just kidding), are all appreciated. Updates (perhaps brief excerpts) to follow.
Generally, I'm superstitious about discussing the content of what I'm writing while I'm writing it (process, yes, content, not so much). Suffice to say, the book is basically about a man trying to put his family back together, after a life of jail, drugs, what have you. It's called
Newton's Cradle. With any luck, I'll have a polished draft by August 31st.
Now, anyone wanna go swimming? Hiking, biking? Kite flying? Parachuting? I love roller coasters, you know... anyone?