Wednesday, July 14, 2010

How did she know?

Someone else wrote this. It appeared in my rss feeds this morning, but when I clicked the button to see it on her own site so I could link you guys to it, it wasn't there. Like she felt guilty for writing it down and deleted it right after it went out? But I loved it, and I felt it, and if she ever decides to claim it, this will go away (or be attributed. It isn't right now because I'm not putting words in her name that she had second thoughts about claiming -- unless or until she decides she wants them after all) but between now and then, here are the words that woke me up this morning....

"There comes a time in every book when I suddenly realize I don’t want to write it any more. It’s not that it’s a bad book. In fact the stuff that I’ve already written is pretty damn good. But the unfortunate fact is that we’ve been together too long. We’ve grown apart. The spark isn’t there any more.

But over there is another book. It’s winking at me. It has a taut plot line and perky characters. It’s flexing its motifs and batting its subplots at me. I want it like I’ve never wanted any other book before.

But I made a commitment. I signed a piece of paper. I said, “I will be with you to the end.” It wouldn’t be fair to cheat on the book I’m in now. I loved it once. I wanted it desperately while I was writing the last book. “It’s not you,” I want to say to it. “It’s me.” And I drag myself back to it, yearning for the thrill of the new, stuck with the commitment to the old.

Maybe if I throw something new in the mix we can recapture that first passion. “How about a cat?” I say to it and it recoils. Some stories just aren’t cat stories, I understand that, but now it’s sitting in my computer muttering and casting me dark moments. I can’t have dark moments in this, it’s a comedy. You’d think I’d asked it to try an aardvark. “Lots of books have cats in them,” I tell it, but I know the trust is broken.

Meanwhile that other story would be all over a cat. I can tell. It’s got that look in its eye.

Serial monogamy is a lot harder in writing than it is in real life."

I've never wanted a different husband, (a second one who would do the dishes and watch the children when I'm tired or allergy dizzy, like today, sure) but a different story? Well, I have two open right now, and the one I'm supposed to be working on isn't. Oh, and the one started on paper on that's sitting on my nightstand. (And lets not talk about all the books for reading that I have open and stacked on top of each other where ever I tend to sit still for a few minutes)

And I hadn't signed a piece of paper. I hadn't gotten that far. We're all only in the beginning stages of the relationship, flirting and first dates. Partially because that first longterm story ended so poorly, lacking something important that I didn't know how to give it and now it sits on my harddrive waiiting for me to come back and rewrite it for the four millionth time, and I'm tempted to do that, but I need to prove I can write a second even though I'm making it seem very much like I can't right now...

I think I've lost the analogy.

Oh well. I still liked it and feel it might accurately describe my current writing problem.

No comments:

Post a Comment