As for "Feeling Gravity's Pull," that is not a description of my current condition, but the name of the REM song that has been in my head all day. What a weird, delicious roar that song makes:
The manilla envelope containing my manuscript pages is beginning to have a little thickness. Progress.
No, I am not writing a novel about Guy Fawkes...although that would be a very cool thing to do.
Oh and by the way I have successfully kept up with Thing-A-Day for SIX MONTHS! W00t! Halfway to my stated goal! Yay me!
I don't feel like I'm creating anything worthwhile here -- just flinging provisional blotches of ink on to the paper. But as Anne Lamott says, "Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor, the enemy of the people. It will keep you cramped and insane your whole life, and it is the main obstacle between you and your shitty first draft." So what I'm engaging in here is...character-building. Down with the oppressor!
Another day, another 4+ pages of prose:
Today I've begun to spin the tale of Denise, and so far my level of output has been respectable:
Okay, last Denise note before I start hammering away at the novel tomorrow...
Denise hates confrontation -- her whole life has been shaped by the flight from confrontation. Why? Because her mother caught her father cheating, confronted him about it immediately, and eventually came to regret it. One blow-out argument and Denise never had a solid home life again. One shouting match and her mother was never quite contented again, Denise never had a father again, et cetera.
(Was Denise home for this confrontation? Probably. That would make the trauma/memory quite indelible indeed.)
One way to avoid confrontation is to avoid notice, and that's why Denise has been trying all her life to disappear into the wallpaper, why she's always been lost in the world of books, why she never speaks up, not even when she really should.
Even when she decides to make a break with Kurt, she does it in absentia, by avoiding him. She will come to regret (and apologize for) this.
The plot should include an escalating series of confrontations. We can watch Denise become more comfortable with them, stop avoiding them, even start making them happen.
Who must she confront, and what must she say to them?
-- Mom: "You caught your husband in bed with your best friend -- of course you threw him out! Stop complaining about it and start making a life for yourself already!"
-- Kurt: "You treated me like a servant and a doormat, and I deserve better than that."
-- Old Lady Patron: "You do not run this library, and you will not steal from it -- not while I work here."
-- Boss: "You will stop patronizing and underpaying me, or I will leave and this place will fall down around your ears."
Et cetera.
Onward!
I have watched this video more than a dozen times. It always amuses and inspires me.
We don't have a pirate supply company here in Portland, but we do have a very active and creative writing center for the young people called The Telling Room. I attended one of their orientation meetings over the summer, thought about tutoring or volunteering in some other way. I met some generous people, came away impressed, and then never went back. Why?
Back when I was young and smart, I could have used a place like 826 Valencia or The Telling Room, a supportive environment full of people who could appreciate and encourage my arty leanings. My urge to volunteer arose from a wish to make sure some other nerd gets the ego boost s/he needs.
On the other hand, back when I was young and smart, the other kids so roundly mocked and abused me for my nerdiness that I retain a bone-deep suspicion of children. I did not enjoy their company when I was small -- why would I enjoy it now? Better to avoid the little bastards, especially since the world (i.e. parents) tends give them a license to be selfish and bratty.
This obviously makes no sense. For one thing, kids who came to The Telling Room would be wordy and nerdy like myself. Why don't I feel up to the task of mentoring them? It's probably because I lacked a mentor when I was young. Catch-20-freakin-2.
