I should totally finish today
I should totally finish the first draft today. I'm just not really up for it. As I just wrote on my blog, as part of several hours of work-avoidance:
The small reading was at Christy's, at an event she and her girlfriend intend to hold monthly: they serve a soup and bread supper and invite people to read a little something. Christy had already read the first two-thirds of my book, of course, and knew the passage I read: the bit about how Greg discovered Growler's most interesting side effect. The two dykes at the party who were strangers to me seemed a little put off by the bukkake at the Glitter Gold Girls Club, and it was at that point I realized that I might have prepared people more in advance. Fortunately Christy's enthusiasm overpowered any discomfort.
All right... I really must think about this thing and just finish it.
In the ending, I mean to have a nice bit about how Meeghan's body is "home" for Hap, the narrator. However, this is a manifestly sentimental idea, and not made any less so because that feeling has been very real for me in the past with certain lovers. It has to be handled just right; otherwise it will sound stupid and shallow, not to mention fundamentally sexist and narcissistic.
I think one way to handle it is to show Meeghan is truly independent, that she has a life apart from Hap -- something there is no hint of yet. Another is to inject a little bit of darkness at the end. It is, of course, stupid to think that your feeling of being truly "home" depends on being able to fuck someone in particular, since no matter how sincere the feeling is and how much both people want to maintain it, bodies are fragile and love, not to mention one's feeling of being truly home, must ultimately depend on something more substantial.
OK, a walk to the café, then down to work.
1:09 pm -- I actually begin working on the last section.
3:45 pm -- Finished. 1600 words for the day. Grand total 85,293.
I meant to finish the first draft of HOW THEY SCORED last weekend, but I stopped a couple of pages short. I didn't want to rush into it, and -- typical -- I had to be somewhere in the early evening, so I cut my writing day short.Of course, I did not then immediately start writing; I didn't even turn to this notes file. I did more internet time-wasting.
Then I thought I would be able to grab a few hours during the week, ideally on Monday, and finish. It was only a few pages. But instead I got utterly hammered at work. In my 12 years in the high tech industry, I don’t think I've ever been as snowed under as I was this week. In fact, I'm seriously considering going in to work on Sunday just to get a head start on the next week. ...
Meanwhile, I read a little piece of this book I'm working on for the first time last night to a few people at a dinner. It was a very interesting experience. When you're reading out loud you can instantly tell which sentences are well constructed and which sound awkward -- which is why they tell you to always, always read your stuff out loud before considering it finished. It made me remember how, in my past experiences at LitCrawl (2006, 2005) I closely edited the piece I was about to read with a mind to how it would sound read out loud. I didn't have the opportunity to do that last night, and it was good to be reminded of how important it is.
So on to the last few pages of this book, which I will subsequently spend as much time as I can rewriting.
The small reading was at Christy's, at an event she and her girlfriend intend to hold monthly: they serve a soup and bread supper and invite people to read a little something. Christy had already read the first two-thirds of my book, of course, and knew the passage I read: the bit about how Greg discovered Growler's most interesting side effect. The two dykes at the party who were strangers to me seemed a little put off by the bukkake at the Glitter Gold Girls Club, and it was at that point I realized that I might have prepared people more in advance. Fortunately Christy's enthusiasm overpowered any discomfort.
All right... I really must think about this thing and just finish it.
In the ending, I mean to have a nice bit about how Meeghan's body is "home" for Hap, the narrator. However, this is a manifestly sentimental idea, and not made any less so because that feeling has been very real for me in the past with certain lovers. It has to be handled just right; otherwise it will sound stupid and shallow, not to mention fundamentally sexist and narcissistic.
I think one way to handle it is to show Meeghan is truly independent, that she has a life apart from Hap -- something there is no hint of yet. Another is to inject a little bit of darkness at the end. It is, of course, stupid to think that your feeling of being truly "home" depends on being able to fuck someone in particular, since no matter how sincere the feeling is and how much both people want to maintain it, bodies are fragile and love, not to mention one's feeling of being truly home, must ultimately depend on something more substantial.
OK, a walk to the café, then down to work.
1:09 pm -- I actually begin working on the last section.
3:45 pm -- Finished. 1600 words for the day. Grand total 85,293.