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!
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