Finally.
It's been a terribly long time (nearly two years now) since I've been immersed in writing a novel (and it was the same novel, in 2007), but I think that I can officially say I'm back in it. Driving last night I was thinking about a choice I'd made with two of the characters; last night I stayed up late to write, my husband knocked out next to me, which has always been when I've done my best writing. (Rather inconvenient, that.) As I was falling asleep (too late; it was nearly three in the morning and it felt like college all over again) I was thinking still about an attraction between two of my teenagers, trying with great difficulty to define it. The longer it takes me to write this, the longer it's been since I was seventeen myself.
(I spent a decent amount of time with high schoolers, actually, and in fact I lived with one last year, but they're so entirely not who I was in high school, nor are they, by any stretch, the people I went to high school with. Perhaps it's a race thing; I'm not sure.)
I'm also listening to two songs by The Fray on repeat. It seems appropriately angst-ridden for a story about high school, I think. And I have an enormous capacity to hear the same song over and over and over, especially when I'm writing.
Yesterday I made myself cry watching YouTube videos of election day, and Obama's speech. That made the things I was writing about seem pettier, which is always unfortunate.
Inauguration is so close now.
And all this week they've been relandscaping outside our apartment; it means we're woken up early while they demolish chunks of asphalt; that all the embarrassing piles of junk from our 'backyard' were at one point sitting in a pile in the middle of the courtyard, for all to see and judge; that it's constantly noisy because, no joke, Bobcats and dump trucks literally keep RAMMING INTO THE SIDE OF OUR HOME; that I have allergies from all the dust.
Less than ideal writing conditions. (Plus in our new home I don't even have a desk!) But I'll manage. By June, I intend to begin my agent search.
(I spent a decent amount of time with high schoolers, actually, and in fact I lived with one last year, but they're so entirely not who I was in high school, nor are they, by any stretch, the people I went to high school with. Perhaps it's a race thing; I'm not sure.)
I'm also listening to two songs by The Fray on repeat. It seems appropriately angst-ridden for a story about high school, I think. And I have an enormous capacity to hear the same song over and over and over, especially when I'm writing.
Yesterday I made myself cry watching YouTube videos of election day, and Obama's speech. That made the things I was writing about seem pettier, which is always unfortunate.
Inauguration is so close now.
And all this week they've been relandscaping outside our apartment; it means we're woken up early while they demolish chunks of asphalt; that all the embarrassing piles of junk from our 'backyard' were at one point sitting in a pile in the middle of the courtyard, for all to see and judge; that it's constantly noisy because, no joke, Bobcats and dump trucks literally keep RAMMING INTO THE SIDE OF OUR HOME; that I have allergies from all the dust.
Less than ideal writing conditions. (Plus in our new home I don't even have a desk!) But I'll manage. By June, I intend to begin my agent search.
posted by Kelly at
11:16 AM
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