Writing diary 16/12/2010
I haven't actually been doing much. By that I mean that I've been postponing doing my coursework forever and that I've been reviewing stuff on YouWriteOn. It amazes me how much better I am at looking at other people's work than my own. Hopefully, this practice will come in helpful when I finish the 1st draft and start revising.
Meanwhile, I could feel my novel (Savannah) bubbling in my subconscious. I have found more about the background of the father figure, which means I'm going to be able to plot the second half of the novel. In theory. This character is s sort of spiritual leader and I'm starting to wonder if he's not more important to the story than my so-called hero - the one I first created to be an alpha male when I thought I would be able to write a Mill and Boons type of romance. There are a few interesting about that Alpha man figure that came through the writing process, but it's mostly background stuff as it is in the text. The fact that his background is more interesting than the 'romance' with Savannah makes me think the whole thing needs serious reworking. There might still be elements of a romantic story in the finished product but this book is unlikely to qualify as a romance in the long run (I think).
I wonder if the novel isn't turning into some sort of mystical/metaphysical quest for me. Ideas about what god is keep nagging at me. I find myself looking back on DH Lawrence's The Plumed Serpent and Apocalypse and thinking that I probably agree an awful lot more with him than I would like to admit. I too think that God or the gods or whatever you call them are only the way the human mind represents the forces at work in the universe. I haven't got the book at end and I threw away all the notes and articles I had gathered on DHL while doing my MPhil because we just don't have the space here. I'm beginning to regret this. From what I remember, he says that god are born and die but they ever only manifest the same thing.
I guess I could be called a deist, except that I couldn't care less if it's one god or several. I mean, the multitude is only a way to concentrate on one facet of the divine Power (struggling to find a name for that higher force/principle there). On the other hand, I recently rejoined the catholic church, had my daughter baptised and took her to a catholic playgroup this morning (where she met Santa for the first time). It doesn't feel wrong though, because I also believe that any way to relate to that higher force/principle is ok. The way we do it doesn't matter, just as the way we conceive that force/principle in our minds doesn't matter. This is all very weird because these thoughts keep invading my writing. I mean, it's this sort of reflection that made me start on the big Indian novel (the one I've postponed because it demands so much researching), and I also started a story set in our day and age about a young virgin being pregnant a while ago. Now that this is happening with Savannah, I'm a bit thrown.
Am I writing in view of publication or is this just my own personal mount of ideas trying to get organised - if that's ever possible. Also, there is the fact that it would be hard to find a market for such a novel, unless I can travel in time and publish it when Modernism emerged. Is it sensible to carry on working on something that might never pay the bills? But then, there's this little voice pitching in: is this just an excuse so I don't write the thing and therefore never try to get it published? Should I give it a try anyway?
Because this story grew into something very different from the original concept, there's a lot of research to do once again. That scares me because I find it hard to find the time to write as it is and I know I could just be researching forever and never writing. How do I solve this dilemma? I feel that something touching to such things - sacred things - cannot be treated lightly. I don't feel like I can make it up as I go because I don't want to say things that are erroneous and that might prejudice other people. If I commit to giving it a proper go, I embark on a long process and I have to keep the aim in mind so I just don't peter out after a couple of months (or years, even). Do I have enough belief in myself that I can bear to keep working for years without seeing anything of mine in print? Can I call myself a writer when I don't have anything to prove that that's what I am?
This is a tough call because I don't really want to do anything else. The proofreading job is ok because it is episodic (and interesting). Projects are started and completed and that give me a great feeling of satisfaction. Writing a novel is the total opposite of that. I am also plagued by this sense of guilt, this idea that I am letting my family (meaning husband and daughter, the other can go hang themselves for all I care) down because I don't make enough money for us to be comfortable. I hate that we need money. I never was interesting in making a lot. I'd give private tuition and forget to take the money at the end. But, unfortunately, we need some and always more and more. My daughter is growing and already shows signs of being talented. She is really active so will need some sort of physical outlet, and she loves dancing and music. Everybody who sees her react to music tell us they think she'll be musical. And it's great, I love that idea. I never could do any extra-curricular activities because we didn't have the money so I don't want to deprive her of this chance to expand her horizon. Only, we don't have the money... I wish city council offered free activities for kids. It hurts me to think that her life could be better if we had more money. I mean, we're good people and we're doing a good job at raising her, but she might still end up feeling less worthy that some clueless spoiled kid with a shining extra-curricular cv. That's wrong. I wish everybody could make the most of their abilities regardless of their social standing. I hate that, not always but quite often, parents 'buy' their kids education. Shall I write a book about that too?
PS: I forgot to mention that I tried to write an erotic novel in which the man is the incarnation of an aztec god. I have about 500 words on that!
Meanwhile, I could feel my novel (Savannah) bubbling in my subconscious. I have found more about the background of the father figure, which means I'm going to be able to plot the second half of the novel. In theory. This character is s sort of spiritual leader and I'm starting to wonder if he's not more important to the story than my so-called hero - the one I first created to be an alpha male when I thought I would be able to write a Mill and Boons type of romance. There are a few interesting about that Alpha man figure that came through the writing process, but it's mostly background stuff as it is in the text. The fact that his background is more interesting than the 'romance' with Savannah makes me think the whole thing needs serious reworking. There might still be elements of a romantic story in the finished product but this book is unlikely to qualify as a romance in the long run (I think).
I wonder if the novel isn't turning into some sort of mystical/metaphysical quest for me. Ideas about what god is keep nagging at me. I find myself looking back on DH Lawrence's The Plumed Serpent and Apocalypse and thinking that I probably agree an awful lot more with him than I would like to admit. I too think that God or the gods or whatever you call them are only the way the human mind represents the forces at work in the universe. I haven't got the book at end and I threw away all the notes and articles I had gathered on DHL while doing my MPhil because we just don't have the space here. I'm beginning to regret this. From what I remember, he says that god are born and die but they ever only manifest the same thing.
I guess I could be called a deist, except that I couldn't care less if it's one god or several. I mean, the multitude is only a way to concentrate on one facet of the divine Power (struggling to find a name for that higher force/principle there). On the other hand, I recently rejoined the catholic church, had my daughter baptised and took her to a catholic playgroup this morning (where she met Santa for the first time). It doesn't feel wrong though, because I also believe that any way to relate to that higher force/principle is ok. The way we do it doesn't matter, just as the way we conceive that force/principle in our minds doesn't matter. This is all very weird because these thoughts keep invading my writing. I mean, it's this sort of reflection that made me start on the big Indian novel (the one I've postponed because it demands so much researching), and I also started a story set in our day and age about a young virgin being pregnant a while ago. Now that this is happening with Savannah, I'm a bit thrown.
Am I writing in view of publication or is this just my own personal mount of ideas trying to get organised - if that's ever possible. Also, there is the fact that it would be hard to find a market for such a novel, unless I can travel in time and publish it when Modernism emerged. Is it sensible to carry on working on something that might never pay the bills? But then, there's this little voice pitching in: is this just an excuse so I don't write the thing and therefore never try to get it published? Should I give it a try anyway?
Because this story grew into something very different from the original concept, there's a lot of research to do once again. That scares me because I find it hard to find the time to write as it is and I know I could just be researching forever and never writing. How do I solve this dilemma? I feel that something touching to such things - sacred things - cannot be treated lightly. I don't feel like I can make it up as I go because I don't want to say things that are erroneous and that might prejudice other people. If I commit to giving it a proper go, I embark on a long process and I have to keep the aim in mind so I just don't peter out after a couple of months (or years, even). Do I have enough belief in myself that I can bear to keep working for years without seeing anything of mine in print? Can I call myself a writer when I don't have anything to prove that that's what I am?
This is a tough call because I don't really want to do anything else. The proofreading job is ok because it is episodic (and interesting). Projects are started and completed and that give me a great feeling of satisfaction. Writing a novel is the total opposite of that. I am also plagued by this sense of guilt, this idea that I am letting my family (meaning husband and daughter, the other can go hang themselves for all I care) down because I don't make enough money for us to be comfortable. I hate that we need money. I never was interesting in making a lot. I'd give private tuition and forget to take the money at the end. But, unfortunately, we need some and always more and more. My daughter is growing and already shows signs of being talented. She is really active so will need some sort of physical outlet, and she loves dancing and music. Everybody who sees her react to music tell us they think she'll be musical. And it's great, I love that idea. I never could do any extra-curricular activities because we didn't have the money so I don't want to deprive her of this chance to expand her horizon. Only, we don't have the money... I wish city council offered free activities for kids. It hurts me to think that her life could be better if we had more money. I mean, we're good people and we're doing a good job at raising her, but she might still end up feeling less worthy that some clueless spoiled kid with a shining extra-curricular cv. That's wrong. I wish everybody could make the most of their abilities regardless of their social standing. I hate that, not always but quite often, parents 'buy' their kids education. Shall I write a book about that too?
PS: I forgot to mention that I tried to write an erotic novel in which the man is the incarnation of an aztec god. I have about 500 words on that!