I wanted to talk about book amnesia.
As soon as I finish a novel, I forget how difficult it was to write it. (They say that about giving birth and/or pain, but I have not found that to be true. Giving birth was bliss for me, and I have had my share of terrible physical pain and I remember that to the wince.) I create a false memory about writing my novels. I imagine that my books flew onto the pages, the characters fully alive, and as soon as I have positive response from someone, that cements this fallacy even more.
So here I am, waiting publication of Breathe and working on a new novel, and all I can think is everyone else out there is writing harder, more disciplined, better, faster, more alive than I am. I am at my desk for hours, I turn out 1500 words, and I think, surely that is not enough. Surely every other writer is turning out 2000 or 4000 or even 6000. I think something is off about my plot, something is wrong with my characters, the whole idea that obsesses me won't obsess anyone else.
So I posted on facebook and instantly heard from other writers who felt the same. I emailed writer friends who reassured me that this is the writers' lot in life, that yep, they feel the same way. I think the only thing to do is write, to block out the voices and the fear, and to dig deeper into the story. Already I am in too deep to let it go. It's a story I want to read, I want to find out what happens, and I want to write it.
Meanwhile, I just heard that my essay, The Grief Diet is now on two online places (the anthology, Feed Me, will be available January 2009). Here's where to read it: Scribe.com and Issuu.com
2 comments:
Caroline,
The grief diet was divine, thank you for sharing the link, I loved it.
Oh, thank you, Andrea!
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