I have been writing all morning on this new novel and am alternately excited, terrified and obsessed by it. I don't know if I can pull it off, but I'm so drawn to it, that I can't stop. My friend, the writer Rochelle Shapiro, told me that I've been wanting to write this particular novel for years but never could figure the right way into the story. Which goes to show you that ideas can simmer like soup, that sometimes there is indeed a right time to write something, and this is also a great nudge for all writers to keep notebooks of ideas, to never throw anything out. It may not work now, but it could ferment into something later.
That actually was the case with my first novel, Meeting Rozzy Halfway, which began as a story that I struggled over for two years. I couldn't get it--it was forced and wrong and it was written from a child's point of view about why her father was so terrifyingly distant. After a particularly bad week of writing, something sort of revealed to me. I don't know where it came from, but this voice emerged, and I began writing the beginnings of the story from an adult point of view. Ah, the mysteries of creativity!
On other mysterious fronts, our TV is possessed. We had DISH and the TV kept stopping so after four different replacement boxes, we went to DIRECT TV. Same problem, even worse. Now we have Optiumum and guess what happened? I think an electrician has to get in here, which will probably cost the price of a small country. Has anyone ever had such a problem?
Back to writing. I feel like I want to write all day, but I'm anxious about the well running dry. I love the sensation that all is great and tomorrow I can't wait to get back to my desk. Which is another question: When do you know when to stop writing for the day?