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breakthrough
i really didn't think i'd get a breakthrough on this novel. but it just sort of happened. at 1:45 am exactly as i was listening to some brandi carlile (what an amazing voice. but i digress...) I've been up until now writing, or trying to write, and basically not thinking too hard about anything. then it just came to me. i finally know what the book is about. it's about searching. which, ironically, is what i'd been doing this whole time for the past year, trying to search for the meaning of the book.
i've grown quite fond of writing for these characters. they're far more fleshed out and three dimensional than in previous incarnations. it helps now that i've been pasting together bits and pieces of various personalities and personal experiences, which makes for some messed up blurring of reality and memory, but it's all good.
although i haven't written tonnes, i've been on a bit of a roll. i'm just wondering what will happen once i leave for california this friday. basically, i figure it will totally block me up, or i'll write most of the book in my mind during the trip and then when i get back, write nonstop for weeks on end and finish a first draft. not bloody likely, but a guy can wish.
anyway, here's a little snippet i wrote before my breakthrough. sons and their fathers. at worst, hatred, at best, indifference. although sometimes quite positive. note the musical references. you can usually tell when i've been listening to way too much music. it usually ends up creeping into my writing.
- I saw my father this morning.
- You did not.
- Oh I did.
- Billy, your father is on the dark side of the moon. Figure of speech, of course.
- No, I saw him, Elton. I woke up this morning and I looked in to the mirror, and there he was. His nose, his eyebrows, his chin.
- Ah. So you had one of those, "I can't believe I look like that prick" moments, did you? Well, don't sweat it; it happens to everyone. When's the last time you spoke to him anyway?
- A couple months ago. He called. We talked. I mean, we didn't talk. We exchanged words. I figure it's a success if we can go for a full minute without one of us just resorting to audible grunts. It doesn't matter. That's all scar tissue anyway.
- Well, my dad's a cocksucker. So we're both better off.
i've grown quite fond of writing for these characters. they're far more fleshed out and three dimensional than in previous incarnations. it helps now that i've been pasting together bits and pieces of various personalities and personal experiences, which makes for some messed up blurring of reality and memory, but it's all good.
although i haven't written tonnes, i've been on a bit of a roll. i'm just wondering what will happen once i leave for california this friday. basically, i figure it will totally block me up, or i'll write most of the book in my mind during the trip and then when i get back, write nonstop for weeks on end and finish a first draft. not bloody likely, but a guy can wish.
anyway, here's a little snippet i wrote before my breakthrough. sons and their fathers. at worst, hatred, at best, indifference. although sometimes quite positive. note the musical references. you can usually tell when i've been listening to way too much music. it usually ends up creeping into my writing.
- I saw my father this morning.
- You did not.
- Oh I did.
- Billy, your father is on the dark side of the moon. Figure of speech, of course.
- No, I saw him, Elton. I woke up this morning and I looked in to the mirror, and there he was. His nose, his eyebrows, his chin.
- Ah. So you had one of those, "I can't believe I look like that prick" moments, did you? Well, don't sweat it; it happens to everyone. When's the last time you spoke to him anyway?
- A couple months ago. He called. We talked. I mean, we didn't talk. We exchanged words. I figure it's a success if we can go for a full minute without one of us just resorting to audible grunts. It doesn't matter. That's all scar tissue anyway.
- Well, my dad's a cocksucker. So we're both better off.
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