The sky is pearl colored and cold weather is on the way. This week has been one of distractions because I needed a bunch of medical tests and as you know, medical appointments steal time from your schedule. Weeks like this make me feel sort of queasy because not enough writing gets accomplished. And then, of course, I needed to surrender a lot of brain power worrying whether Obama was wearing an American flag lapel pin. I mean, like the pundacracy, I’ve got my priorities. Seriously, I’m hoping that the House Democrats can force Karl Rove to testify about a portion of his various crimes, but I’m not holding my breath. I’m still plugging away at reading Frank Delaney’s
So a few more tidbits on books and the blogosphere. You might want to check out Tim Robbins keynote speech to the National Association of Broadcasters at Huffingtonpost on 4/16. It’s so tart and satiric it practically burns your skin. Here is a snippet of his concluding remarks: “This is a nation divided and reeling from betrayal and economic hardships. And you, the broadcasters of this great nation have a tremendous power, and a tremendous potential to effect change. You have the power to turn this country away from cynicism. You have the power to turn this nation away from the hatred and the divisive dialogue that has rendered such a corrosive affect on our body politic. You can lift us up into a more enlightened age. Or you can hide behind that old adage; "I'm just a businessman, I provide what the audience wants." Well, I'm here to tell you that we don't need to look at the car crash. We don't need to live off of the pain and humiliation of the unfortunate. We don't need to celebrate our pornographic obsession with celebrity culture. We are better than that.”
Aren’t we fortunate as a species that each season brings a crop of new books? Karen Joy Fowler's follow-up to her bestseller The Jane Austen Book Club is called Wit’s End. It’s about a mystery writer, Addison Early whose tales come back to haunt her when her goddaughter moves in with her. It’s getting mixed reviews so if anyone has read it, please drop me a line.
Now I haven’t read a Walter Mosley novel in a while, but I was thinking about hearing him speak on NPR’s Talk of the Nation show. He was talking about writing and his book This Year You Write Your Novel. During that program he was so calm and wise and deep about his practice that if I wasn’t a writer, I would have begun that day. Here is a segment of his opening chapter:
"First words
Probably the highest hurdle for the novice novelist (and many seasoned veterans) is writing the first few words. That beginning is a very emotional moment for most of us.
There are all kinds of ways for people to cajole themselves into starting their book. Some get a special pen or a particular desk set at a window looking out on something beautiful. Others play a favorite piece of music, light a candle, burn incense, or set up some other ritual that makes them feel empowered and optimistic. If this is what you find you must do to write — well… okay. Rituals frighten me. I worry that if I need a special pen or desk or scent to start me out, what will happen when I lose that pen or I'm on vacation or a business trip and my window looks out on the city dump?
My only ritual for writing is that I do it every morning. I wake up and get to work. If I'm in a motel in
The only thing that matters is that you write, write, write. It doesn't have to be good writing. As a matter of fact, almost all first drafts are pretty bad. What matters is that you get down the words on the page or the screen — or into the tape recorder, if you work like that.
Your first sentence will start you out, but don't let it trip you up.
If you are the intuitive type, just sit down and start writing the novel:
Lamont had only enough cash to buy half a pint of whiskey at Bob's Liquor Emporium, but he knew it wouldn't be enough. Ragman was dead, and that was at least a quart's worth of mourning.
What does it mean? How should I know? Those were the first words that came out. I'm not going to worry about it; I'm just going to keep on writing until either something clicks or I lose momentum. If it doesn't seem to be working, I'll start with a new first sentence. I'll keep on like that until something strikes my fancy and I have enough of a handle on the story to continue.
The next morning I read what I wrote the day before, making only the most superficial changes, and then continue on my way. This is all you have to do. Sit down once a day to the novel and start working without internal criticism, without debilitating expectations, without the need to look at your words as if they were already printed and bound.
The beginning is only a draft. Drafts are imperfect by definition.
If you are the structured kind of writer, you might start by getting the outline of your novel down on paper. You know the story already, but now you have to get it down scene after scene, chapter after chapter.
Every day, you sit down, just like the intuitive writer, writing what it is you think your story is about. You discover new characters, add little thumbnail sketches of them; you make notes about the feeling you want to get here and there. You create the whole book out of bulleted phrases and sentences, paragraphs and maybe even flowcharts.
Finally the day will arrive when you come to the end of the outline. The story is set, at least theoretically, and now you must follow the road that the intuitive writer takes. You sit down with your outline somewhere in the room and start writing the prose. You begin with a sentence and keep on going. Maybe you will follow the plan assiduously; maybe you will be diverted onto another path that will lead you far from your original ideas.
Whatever the case, the work is the same. Some days will be rough, unbearable; some will be sublime. Pay no attention to these feelings. All you have to do is write your novel this year. Happy or sad, the story has to come out.
Stick to your schedule. Try to write a certain amount every day — let's say somewhere between 600 and 1,200 words. Do not labor over what's been written. Go over yesterday's work cursorily to reorient yourself, then move on. If you find at some point that you have lost the thread of your story, take a few days to reread all you have written, not with the intention of rewriting (though a little editing is unavoidable) but with the intention of refamiliarizing yourself with the entire work.
Using this method, you should have a first draft of the novel in about three months. It won't be publishable. It won't be pretty. It probably won't make logical sense. But none of that matters. What you will have in front of you is the heart of the book that you wish to write.
There is no greater moment in the true writer's life.”
His latest novel is a comedy The Tempest Tales about Tempest Landry who refuses to linger in hell after death because business back on earth still demands his attention.
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