REALITY BITES

I suppose I should be placing this post on the "Birth of a Novel" page but because it speaks to some aspect of life, that is PERSISTENCE and moreover, FOCUS and RE-VISION, I will take the liberty of posting it here.

This past weekend I had the pleasure of taking a six point synopsis writing course with Noreen Wald. Noreen, a well-published mystery writer and current president of Mystery Writers of America, presented a radically different approach to writing the synopsis, one that I, at least, had never heard. But what was most compelling to me was how she also used it as an umbrella to discuss the deeper aspects of writing, particularly the writing of novels. I came away with much needed handouts and with a surprisingly different feeling about my own novel. Since I had neglected to bring the opening chapter (I only brought the synopsis that I'd written) I chose not to read. Others read from their openings and I was pleased to have been in the company of such really, really good writers. A few have their books with agents now and are waiting to hear, and a few have been rejected, obviously seeking that better approach to crafting the synopsis. Noreen's suggestion, her plea to any beginning writer (or rather, the person writing her first novel), is to write the synopsis first before writing the novel. If nothing else it will serve as a loose guide for the story one is trying to tell, rather than the ball of yarn that becomes completely unraveled and tangled like a son-of-a-you-know-what to the extent that the only choice one has is to throw it away.

One fellow who has written a thriller read his synopsis (and indeed, I do see this becoming a movie) has a commitment from Michael Connolly to blurb it. He's been working on his synopsis alone for two years, not to mention they many years he's been working on the novel. Talk about commitment. But after hearing it, I say it was time well spent. The interesting thing was that this particular fellow agreed with Noreen's approach and said he will never again try to write a novel in what he called, "this reverse way."

Now, there are two schools of thought on this, which I don't care to engage in debate over simply because art is subjective and what works for one artist is a strait jacket for another. Some people want to "follow where their charachters take them," and others like the feeling of "being God," setting all the stages and creating all the outcomes. I will simply say that I can see the value in doing the synopsis both first and last.

As for me though, I came away with the hard reality that I do not yet have a novel. This is by no means a comparison to the other writers because I don't live on that page. I am my own benchmark. I've got some great chapters, some terrific scenes, and some really interesting charachters. I've got some really realistic dialogue, an intriguing plot, and quite a few unexpected twists and turns. I've got the ingredients but no cake. Story, but not yet a novel. Structurally, my chapters are a bit too long. I'm inherently long winded at times (hence my love of exposition) which poses a problem when you need to cut chapters and pick up the pace. I have some dangling threads around the hem that need to be pulled back up into the main garment. I've got some round charachters that need to be rounder and some that need to be flattened, who don't need to be occupying as much space as they are. I need, in some areas, to get to the point. I need to make some motivations stronger and certainly more believable. I have a few settings that I can't see. That is, there isn't enough of a visual. Dumping charachters down at a lunch table and saying it was hot outside is not enough. And all of this, on a balmy Saturday afternoon, in Bethesda, Maryland (which happens to be one of my favorite Washington suburbs), was no easy pill to swallow. Initially I felt horribly despondent but my nature is not one of defeat or prolonged melancholy rather, that of dusting off the desk, rolling up the sleeves, pouring a cup of coffee and getting to the business at hand. No chamomile tea for this sister. At least, not right now.


One thing I realize is that I have been too kind to too many of these charachters -- I have only scratched the surface of who they really are. I have not gotten ugly with those that I sympathize with and those that I love to hate (Carter, for one) I have not loved enough. Additionally and honestly, I have been too distracted -- undertaking more than I have sufficient mindspace to handle. I've been trying to do too much. I thought of a treasured friend of mine who reminded me that in my garden (metaphor for my current life) I am going to have to get used to seeing a few weeds here and there. That is to say that while I have so many wonderful interests there may not be an ability to cultivate them all at this single moment in time. The fact that I am a mother and wife is fifty percent of that garden. Now, she added, you have to decide what that other fifty percent is going to be.

Looking at my novel, seeing how much deeper I still have to go (Judith Paterson calls it 'digging ditches' at this stage) initially made me weary. But over the past three days, spending most (if not all) of my mind time on this novel and re-visioning it, I see exactly what I have to do. I am too delighted with this story to abandon it, too delighted with these people, and with the depth that I, even at this early point, am travelling. Delving deeper leads me to what I love most: research. I have delved into the lives of women I have only known on the surface, namely Billie Holliday. (I see why Alice put Billie and Zora in the same column). Also Dorothy Dandrige (my goodness if Halle doesn't remind me so much of that woman in many ways). My research has led me back to my own home (New York) deep into Harlem circa 1919-1940. Oh, how much I wish I could have been a fly on the wall during that time. How much more I am learning by going deeper and deeper still.
Today at the library, two really good books on Harlem, one on Billie in her own words. It doesn't get better than this, folks.

And so the question arises: when will I be done? I can't answer that. And that not knowing is something I've made peace with. I do know what deadline I have given myself and I'm going to do my very best to stick with it, but hey....real life kicks in. And the bigger question, for me, is how much of the rest of that garden am I going to fill and what will it be filled with? That answer I do know: my novel. Because you see, for me, I am all with James Baldwin who said, "You have to decide if you want to be famous or if you want to write." For me, writing is it. Writing is exploration, it's getting wind of a concept and then digging deeper and deeper into that thing. Concept or charachter, it's different for everyone. For me, for sure, it's concept. With my poems, my stories, with my novel, it's all about concept. It is wanting to understand a certain thing. It is wanting to understand human nature. It is storytelling at its absolute best, its most compelling. And I for one am not content with coming away with anything less.


I think of what Judith Paterson says in the opening segment of The Writer's Tale:

Writingis a process. For me, it is as intriguing and mysterious as life itself. I don't know where I'm going until I begin. I don't know where I will end until I'm there. It is both the same and different for ever writer I know. With every word, every sentence, every paragraph we will write our own tales. The writer's tale.

And I think that that is the task at hand (among many others) that the writer has to make peace with: the not knowing and yet, the trust that one will get there with enough perseverence, enough focus, enough tenacity, and with enough re-vision.

Because it really does come down to re-vision-ing things. I suppose the creation of anything new, anything fresh, anything insightful requires re-vision.
Imagine what we could do in life, in the world, if we learned how to re-vision age old concepts and beliefs. I mean, take the Roman Catholic church for instance (yes, I am absolutely going there -- somebody needs to and it may as well be me). Just imagine if they could re-vision a church that had a woman at some part of its core and, moreover, embraced a vision of the sacred feminine. I mean, if you look at Brazil for instance -- 90 million people living in dire poverty, the bulk of them women (and children) and Brazil holding one of the highest counts of Catholics. And I am not only calling out Catholicism but Islam and Christianity as well. How many females are heading up the Baptist churches? Name for me one female Imam. I mean, just imagine a world where women's ideas, thoughts, suggestions, and strengths were valued.

Imagine what the United States would be like if we re-visioned this punitive justice system that is as far from restorative as heaven is from you-know-where. Imagine if we could re-vision a public school system that was equitable across the board, that did not draw boundary lines and "districts" such that one distict, poplulated by half million dollar homes, receives cutting edge technology and the other, populated by rowhomes and apartment complexes receives books that are ten years old. Imagine if we could re-vision a healthcare system that really worked and did not penalize your having a "pre-existing condition;" one did not lead you into bankruptcy for a busted appendix that no one could have predicted. Just imagine if people could re-vision their own personal lives and see themselves not as corporate slaves but as co-creators with the Divine One. I mean, we all know that a capitalist society requires there be a permanent underclass for its survival so I am not under the delusion that we will ever rid poverty in this country. I mean, that would require eliminating capitalism and we KNOW that won't happen. But let's just talk basic equity here.


But anyhow, all of this to say that I'm at the drawing board hard and heavy. This is not to say that I won't be promoting my book or writing new poems or submitting things. No, that would be absurd. It's just to say that I am following that inner source from which all goodness flows. I'm looking at my garden and spending time on the side that feeds me most. I am getting used to having a few weeds---unfolded laundry, dust in the corners, a few less conferences, you know. Maybe even putting off that Spanish class I really, really wanted to take and that Feminist Theory class I wanted to sign up for in the Women's Studies program in the fall. Going deeper requires getting quiet in a way that is always suspect to other people. It requires cancelling out some things, putting more tallies in the credit column and less in the debit. No, I think I'm going to stay over on this side a while. Right here, waiting to see what grows.


PEACE.