Not a Novel, But …
OK, yesterday I produced a burst of writing – about 1,200 words worth. I’d gotten the idea for this piece the previous day, and I woke up eager to get to the keyboard. A rare and revivifying sensation!
I’m highly skilled in a particular game: not world-class good, but state-champion caliber. Last month, my wife gave me several items from my holiday gift wish list, one of which was this game’s world champion’s memoirs. While reading about his first steps as a young prodigy in this game, I realized I’d started competing in it during the same year. Of course, his skill and achievements then were ridiculously greater than mine … but our careers roughly paralleled after that, with each of us meeting (and overcoming) gradually stiffer competition as we played the game ever better. The enormous gap between us stayed roughly constant.
This sparked the notion of writing an article charting our simultaneous rises (mine being the dimmest echo of his). Somehow, it reminded me of the book Julie and Julia, in which an ordinary cook with a tiny kitchen tries to prepare French cuisine in the style of Julia Child.
Anyway, I had fun starting my article, chronicling his unnervingly brilliant play and contrasting it with my fumbling attempts. I’m still not sure what to do with the final product, though, should I get that far. It will be too long for a hobby magazine, not long or gripping enough to be a book. Maybe I’ll set up a blog about the game and use this as my feature piece. Interesting possibilities!
Taking Another Shot
Once again, as I did last year, I have entered the Writer’s Digest short-short-story competition. I took a kernel of an idea I’d had for a novel aimed at young teens, wrote a drastically shortened draft of it, then ran several edit passes while trying to shoehorn it into the contest’s 1,500-word limit. Not easy, but worth the effort.
I am not holding my breath about prizes; just glad to have given my prose-producing and -polishing muscles a good workout.
Updates: Failure & Ignominy
Regarding my December 9 post: I did not, in fact, win fame, glory, or a meeting with prominent publishers in the Writer’s Digest short-short story contest. ‘Nuf said.
Regarding my February 12 post: the high-powered book agent finally did send commentary on my 500 words. Her six comments were somewhat repetitive, instilling these ideas into my hard head: show, don’t tell; good use of tension-building hooks; start a book with action (rather than by discussing a character’s name, which is “a huge cliche”); and remember, show, don’t tell. I was aware that I was “telling” about earlier occurrences that might have been shown in other ways (e.g., flashbacks); this was a first draft, and I was mainly trying to create a whole story line, with the idea of fleshing it out later. Oh well. Not the worst input I could have received, but hardly encouraging either.
Lately I’ve seen notices about a couple of meetings of local writers’ groups. I should probably try attending one of them. Should. Don’t know whether I will. (Tune in next time to find out ….)
Hey, Ma, I Wrote Somethin’!
Maybe writing a novel right off the bat is an overly drastic goal. Maybe I’m trying to bite off more than I can chew. So I decided to practice chewing something smaller.
Writer’s Digest magazine runs an annual short-short-story contest, with a 1,500-word limit. Such a small quantity – I figured that would let me focus more on quality.
An idea suggested itself from my daily life. I’m such a creature of routine: park the car a certain way, hang up keys & put away cell phone in a certain way, etc. For the story, I strung some of those routines around a central plotline featuring a guy who’s just been the driver in a hit-and-run (that part is not from my actual life). As night falls, he wrestles with what he should do.
I cranked out about 1,300 words, ran an edit pass, let it sit for a couple days, then tinkered with it some more. What author is ever satisfied? In this case, I’m not; the story has some nice attributes, but it ain’t Great Literature.
Given the chance, I might have played with the prose endlessly, but that wasn’t feasible. Deadlines were approaching. So, after a few final word switches, I pasted the file into a form on the WD website, typed in my credit card info for the $20 entry fee, and clicked the submission button.
Winners will be announced on Valentine’s Day. The top ten writers get cash and – more important – their names and story titles published. Considering how many entries they’ve probably received from dedicated writers, I have little hope of receiving a prize.
Still, this was one of those experiences where the process – actually writing a fully realized piece! – is more valuable than the outcome. I’ve already gotten my “prize”: the knowledge that I can sit down and put words together. Time to employ that ability in a more ambitious way!
My Tangential Brush with Literary Fame
A new issue of Time magazine arrived the other day. Cover story: “Great American Novelist” – a profile of Jonathan Franzen.
Long before becoming the heir to Fitzgerald, Hemingway, Updike, and Roth, Jonathan was a college schoolmate of mine. He was a couple years ahead of me, and although I knew who he was, we never met.
Six or seven years after graduating, while writing for and editing trade magazines, I was invited to speak on a panel at my alma mater. Along with two fellow alumni, I told current students what it was like to work with words for a living. One of the other speakers was Franzen, whose first novel, The Twenty-Seventh City, had just been published.
Chatting briefly with him afterward, I mentioned that I was planning to write a novel (yes, even then!). He politely said that when I completed it, I should contact him, and he would put me in touch with his agent.
So … I wonder whether that offer (from 20+ years ago) still applies? Yet another reason to finish writing a novel is so I can look up the Great American Novelist himself and seek his long-promised aid.
Teaching and Learning
Well, I just finished my month-plus stint as a middle school English teacher. Whooee! I had forgotten what an enervating job this is. Classroom management all day, grading papers for much of the evening.
Strangely, though, I think my writing will benefit from this “lost month.” The students were reading, and writing about, a couple of historical novels unfamiliar to me – but wonderfully written. That’s the kind of bar I’ll strive to reach in my own writing, though I’ll likely never reach it. Also, the kids did oral book reports on a wide range of classics that I hadn’t read; just looking through those books (to prepare for the reports) was enlightening.
You’ve probably heard old sayings about how the best way to learn something is by teaching it. I had a taste of that experience over the past month, and now I’m inspired and raring to write! (Before I start, though, I have a lot of lost sleep to catch up on. Did I mention how much effort it takes to be a good educator? Be sure to thank the next teacher you see!)
Life’s Curveballs
I’d been getting some of my other affairs in order so that I could start writing in earnest in this New Year. Well, fate had other plans for me.
Late in December, I accepted an unexpected offer to spend all of January as a full-time substitute teacher. A challenging and rewarding gig, to be sure, and one that helps out a former colleague, but it occupies a lot of potential writing time!
We all figure, “I will start writing more when x happens,” or “after y is over.” We’re not always in control of those x‘s and y‘s, though, any more than a football coach who diagrams a play but sees a very different outcome on the field.
At least my novels’ characters will follow the x‘s and y‘s that I chart for them … if and when I get the chance!
Take a Course, or Just Write?
As a chess master, I sometimes give exhibitions at shopping malls, playing numerous passersby at once. One twentyish opponent at an upstate New York mall gave me a decent fight before succumbing, then asked if chessplayers could make decent money, because he knew he was good.
Poor deluded fellow – he thought he was ready to challenge all comers. He’d had no exposure to the world of organized chess, and he didn’t know that a huge body of knowledge about the game had been built up over centuries, published, and constantly refined. In serious competition against a typical tournament veteran, this guy’s chances would be zero.
Since I subscribe to Writer’s Digest (a fine magazine that I don’t read as closely as I ought), I often receive emailed ads for their writing courses. Part of me thinks, “I should take one of these courses, to get inspiration, feedback, a sense of community, and hard-won knowledge from genuine writing pros.” Another part responds, “You already know how to put words together; don’t spend hundreds of bucks on yet another delaying tactic!” (The remaining part of my brain is pondering the eternal question: “What shall I eat next?”)
Every time I’ve received those ads, I’ve opted to forego formal instruction. Yet I wonder: am I being as ignorant and bullheaded as the mall shopper who thought he knew enough to be a chess champion? Should I admit that I’m a novice at novel-writing and actually try to learn something?
It Was Like a Dream
Since my conscious mind refuses to write, my unconscious is taking over. Last night (this morning, actually), I had an extended dream about writing a murder mystery.
About a dozen people – adults and children – had come to my house (not my real house, my dream house). While they chatted, I was scrawling snippets of their dialogue in a notebook. After a short while, I made a comment about a murder mystery, then noted (and scribbled) some of their reactions. The dream ended there – and tragically, no prose-filled notebook lay upon my bedside table.
Tonight, maybe it will be time for chapter two?
P.S. I’ve actually produced semi-literary work this way before. During my years as a math teacher, I used to think a lot about the quantity “pi” – and one morning, I awoke with my head full of fragments of a rap song about it. I jotted them down, filled in some blank parts, and went on to perform this rap for math classes over the next half dozen years. (If you’re curious and bored, you can see a video of it by visiting PiRap.com.)
Welcome to FirstNovel.com!
Yes, I’m working on my first novel. Two, actually. But I’m not sure whether I will finish both … and if so, which one will be done first. (Maybe it should be FirstNovels.com?!)
Anyway, I intend to share the experiences of working on my first novel[s]. All you other budding novelists: please join me for the ride!
P.S. This is extremely freaky. Just a few minutes after posting the FirstNovel.com site for the first time, I received an email from Writer’s Digest (to which I subscribe). Nothing too odd there, as they pitch products to me all the time … but in this case, they were offering a handful of books about writing novels. Included was one work entitled Your First Novel.
It’s almost as if they saw this site launched and tried to pounce on a marketing opportunity. I mean, OK, it’s just a coincidence (coinciding, as it were, with an early stage of National Novel Writing Month). Still, it made me wonder!