As most of you who follow this blog know, I have written a novel. It has received a number of looks and received many kind words, but like Superman’s relationship pursuit, nobody wants to tango. The agent keeps beating the bushes, but I am not holding my breath. It’s safer that way.
This blog has scratched my writing itch since then, but I have had this idea formulating in my head for a couple of months. It all started in the spring of 2019 when I wrote three short pieces that had a common thread, but no beginning or end. After finishing the third piece I thought “this could be the nucleus of something,” but nothing ever came of it.
Recently however, that once forgotten thought has been germinating. I have a rough theme and concept in mind and I can weave some of the stuff that is going on in today’s world into it. I am intrigued by what the finished project could look like, and believe the story would be engrossing and something everyone could relate to. The problem is that one issue has been a roadblock: the amount of work and time that is involved.
If it was just a matter of writing it, proofing it, then sending it on its way, I would do it in a heartbeat. That isn’t the way it works though.
After I finished the final draft of my novel, I wound up rewriting it so many times during the editing process that I lost count. All I remember is that it was at least dozen times, and perhaps more. Each time I re-read the manuscript was more tedious and annoying than the previous one. I felt like Sisyphus rolling that huge boulder up the hill, thinking this would be the time I got to the top, only to have it roll back down to the bottom for me to start all over again. In retrospect I can’t complain because the final product was superior to anything that preceded it, but have any of you ever read the same book over and over again in a year? I am pretty sure you would hate the story if you did. That is how it was for me.
It killed any desire I may have had to write another one, so my attention turned to this space, where I can pontificate on whatever I want and not take a lot of time doing it.
I can’t deny the itch was there however, and it’s getting more pronounced. The blog is getting a little stale and is beginning to feel like work. I enjoy telling stories, developing characters and plot lines, and am enthralled with the idea that for at least a few hours, someone would devote a sliver of their free time to enjoy the fruits of my imagination.
Plus I am bored! Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored! I work from home, don’t get out a lot, and have a lot of time on my hands. I had my Ocrevus infusion last week and will have to spend the next eight weeks being extra careful while the immune system recuperates, and will have even more disposable time. I need to find something to occupy it.
All I need to do is take that first step, because once that occurs the rest will take care of itself. And like my agent said after I shared the thought with her, once you get one book published it is a lot easier to get subsequent stories done. So maybe story number two could be the best thing for story number one.
Writing the next great American novel is what I fantasize about. But the reality is this is nothing more than pure fantasy. Realistically, I probably have a better chance of hitting the lottery than that happening. Then again, there is zero chance of it happening if you don’t try.
All it would take is for me to open the laptop and write that first paragraph. You never know.
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