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It was a relief to finish Charlotte Had A Boyfriend. It was a lot more work than it may seem. For many weeks, writing it was my full-time job. Seriously. I've never worked this hard on a story before. Something changed in my approach. I'm not going to quantify or explain it, except to say that my writing method or strategy or technique has gotten more defined. Easier in many ways, but it takes longer.
I managed to get the last chapter posted before going on a week-long trip. It turned out to be a rainy week, but was still wonderful. I did a lot of reading, including my first "Maisie Dobbs" mystery -- I'd never heard of her, ever, but there was a shelf-load of them where I was staying, and I picked up An Incomplete Revenge, which blew my mind. The author is Jacqueline Winspear, and I'm amazed by her skill.
With a second case of great timing, I finished the book just before I had to leave for home. If I hadn't, I would have ordered it online (I'd already checked my local library's online catalog. It wasn't there.)
I also re-read Anthony Trollope's Autobiography, which I loved, but I don't recommend it unless you're a fan of his writing and curious about *his* approach to the craft.
Anyway, I've mentioned from time to time that I have files and files of notes and chapters and... stuff... that I've accumulated over the years: unwritten stories, ideas for stories, "concepts of ideas" for stories, and so on. A lot of the work that went into Charlotte was wading through years of notes and sketches and completed chapters (none of which went into the final version), and putting all of it into order.
You might think that having all that scribble on hand would be very useful. I used to think so. But after spending full days reducing files into a handful or a dozen lines of notes, I developed a less sanguine view about "keeping everything."
And so... I swept over my files, deleting without mercy and without backup.
I still have two somewhat complicated ideas with all their accumulated cruft.
Anyway, it's nice to have finished something.
hugs and thanks,
- iolanthe
Comments
Barchester Chronicles
I once had the idea of transcribing all my little notes about prospective story ideas, themes, and characters that I had accumulated over the last several years onto a thumb drive. I couldn't really keep up and soon gave up on the project. I just put all the old notebooks and memo pads into a box and shoved it into a dark corner of a closet. Which reminds me of the monomaniacal Steve Allen who, decades before the smartphone, used to carry a pocket tape recorder on his person at all times, muttering joke ideas and song lyrics into it, even while standing before a urinal in a restaurant men's room. Allen once claimed he had written thousands of songs, even more than Harry Warren (he wrote "Lullaby of Broadway", "Chattanooga Choo Choo", "At Last", and many more), who published over 800 songs! The mind boggles at the thought of keeping notes on 800 songs, much less Allen's thousands.
On the other hand, Proust's madeleines only had memory capacity for seven volumes of "À la recherche du temps perdu." I've heard that biscotti can hold more data.
I enjoyed Trollope when I read the Victorian Novel in college (taught by the late eminent scholar Steven Marcus). And I really liked the BBC adaptation "Barchester Chronicles" from way back in the '80s with Alan Rickman as Obadiah Slope (a character name worthy of an Iolanthe Portmanteaux story!). Writers on our site might take heed of the cautionary tale told in another Victorian era classic novel, George Gissing's "New Grub Street." But, of course, that's when people actually read books. Did you know the latest Times best-seller list counts 41 titles before we encounter the first adult novel, Sally Rooney's "Intermezzo"? Most people don't believe reading is FUN-damental anymore.
Hugs,
Sammy