How Do They Come To You?

First of all, Mary knew I had my own blog. So there. Since writing related stuff isn’t near the top of my priority list right now, I figured I’d go back to my lame little non-writing-related blog to post non-writing-related stuff.

That said, I’ve got a new novel in the works. If you popped over to my blog, you’ll notice I mentioned it. If you didn’t, well then you suck and I’m not talking to you anyway. (Kidding!) 

When I entertained the notion of writing a novel for NaNo, I had a story in mind. The characters just kind of came along for the ride, and it didn’t go very far. I was fairly excited about the story, and had a vague notion of who was in it.

When I wrote my actual novel, it started with Claire. She showed up in my head and badgered me mercilessly until I wrote her novel. Of course, the story was there, too, and I was excited about it, but looking back, I realize that I was excited about Claire IN the story. Without the story, Claire might have done something else, I’m not sure. But without Claire, the story was nothing, because it was her story.

That’s what happened to Jericho Road. Yes, Natalie’s a nice girl and all, but I was excited about the story, period. Natalie was more of an afterthought, an insertion into the story, someone who would fit nicely and do a good job, but she was… weak.

Let me explain. She’s not a weak character. I think she’ll be a fine character, someday. But she just kind of stood on the edges of my imagination, asking, “Now what do I do?” Claire told me what she was doing and I dictated.

(This all makes me sound rather insane, doesn’t it??)

Jericho Road is a good story. Does Natalie have to be in it? Nope. It could be Natalie… or Jane or Beth or Marianne. And apparently, that doesn’t work for me. Which means I have to wait until Jane or Beth or Marianne shows up and tells me how Jericho Road is going to go… or Natalie has to be a little more assertive and tell me her story, whatever it may be.

Moving along to this one, I have Cairo Montgomery. She showed up in my head, pestering me. As I did with Claire, I listened a bit and then started to get really excited. Cairo is amazing, I could listen to her for days. In fact, I have. Weeks, even. Cairo’s story is awesome and I’m excited about the combination.

See, with Claire and with Cairo, there was no substituting anything. It had to be Claire in her story. And now, it has to be Cairo in her story. It’s their story.

All of this leads me to believe even more that none of my stories are really my stories. So what does that mean in terms of my responsibility to tell these stories? If these characters – these people – are so real and demanding, does that mean I am essentially murdering them by keeping them silent?

I realize that all sounds rather bizzare, so I hope you all have noisy, pushy characters so you understand just what I’m saying. I always thought it was the story that I had to write. And I thought I could put my characters in a story and write it. Now I don’t think that’s the case. I think that, for me, maybe it’s a matter of getting a specific character in a specific story at just the right time. It’s weird.

I wasn’t so confident about Jericho Road. I rather expected that I might fail, but I thought it was because of time constraints and responsibilities. Now I’m thinking I knew it just wasn’t right because I was trying to put Natalie in a story she didn’t belong in, and trying to put a character into Jericho Road that didn’t belong there. I love the story, so it’ll remain on the back burner until the right character shows up and claims it. I also rather like Natalie. Maybe in a few months or years, she’ll show up and announce her story.

Anyway, like with Claire, Cairo’s story has no title yet, and I suspect it will be generic when it does come, like The Cabin. The title seems like such a minor thing… I know some writers sneer and insist you must have a title before you begin… eh, screw the notion that you must do anything to be “right”, let’s move on to another topic.

I’m feeling really good about this book. So many things are paralleling (is that a word??) to how things went with Claire, and that makes me very, very happy. And very confident that the outcome will be similar – a finished book. (Let’s not discuss the editing stage. I consider it a finished book when I wrote “The End”, if not a polished, publishable book.)

So there you have it. While my writing is far less of a priority due to my life, I think it’s more a matter of having the right story.

The More You Know…

Did you know…

- That Carrie has her own independent blog?  (Well, I didn’t, until today when she showed me, because nobody tells me nothin’.)

- And that *I* have my own independent blog? Well, I didn’t really have anything more than a test bed until today, when I realized I could bring all my long-winded gibberish posts over there, and post without feeling guilty about burying Carrie’s occasional post (apparently, she’s much more active on her blog than this one anyway).

- Somebody’s going to say that we are Now Divorced, but only in a bloggeral sense, because WE ARE NOT MARRIED AND NEVER WERE, thank you.

- I would quite like a cup of tea, and about a week in the middle of nowhere with nothing but some paper and some pens. Er, and a fountain of tea.

…

Anyway, I know Lori’s updated the Commune blogroll to reflect the blog changey thingie. So now you know. I can’t maintain a personal blog, and CarrPeeDiem, so I might just switch over there. Although it’s a hellluva lot harder to abbreviate “Tzinski” than it is to casually say “CPD” in conversation.

Now you have all my wordly links.

TILT

I need to finish the Nondescript, really, really badly. Not least because the Neon God just got smooshed by a huge, mind-boggling idea for a universe full of stories that suddenly built itself in my head last night. I barely slept. When I did sleep, I dreamt about it. I’ve been struggling to get down the shape of it all day. I am elated.

Anyway, I need to work. So I may be absent. (I always say that. We’ll see.)

Meanwhile, some wise advice.

John Kenneth Galbraith:

“All writers know that on some golden mornings they are touched by the wand—are on intimate terms with poetry and cosmic truth. I have experienced those moments myself. Their lesson is simple: It’s a total illusion. And the danger in the illusion is that you will wait for those moments. Such is the horror of having to face the typewriter that you will spend all your time waiting. I am persuaded that most writers, like most shoemakers, are about as good one day as the next (a point which Trollope made), hangovers apart. The difference is the result of euphoria, alcohol, or imagination. The meaning is that one had better go to his or her typewriter every morning and stay there regardless of the seeming result. It will be much the same.”