Yes, We've Got No Ideas Today

I found this comment on my blog today:

“You haven't posted in awhile. I trust you've wrapped your mind around an idea and you're flying with it. :) “

She put a smiley there so I guess she must know that had I an idea I would’ve posted.  I do have a few snippets..little pests.  But no full grown animal.

Since Friday I’ve been helping two friends who have been very sick.  One in the hospital, the other at home.  So I keep saying to myself it’s a good thing I’m not writing.  That’s true, in a way.  I’d be a bit resentful if I was in the middle of a book. But I’m not.

Tomorrow will be the 1st of March.  I blew January and February, my favorite months to write.  Maybe it’s all over for me.  Maybe there won’t be a 20th book.  We know I’m not a Gorman or a Randisi so this might be the end.  Nineteen books isn’t a bad record.  Still, I’m not ancient and have all my marbles.  So why would it be over for me?

Think of Harper Lee.  One book and out.  I’m not comparing myself as a writer with her, but who says one has to write book after book?  I made this 20 book goal for myself so I can break it if I want to.

But I’m a writer and writers write.  I know you’re not supposed to define yourself by what you do.  Actually, who said that?  I do define myself that way.  So I’ll keep reading and thinking and hoping.  That’s all I can do right now.

Quote

"Writing a book is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout of some painful illness. One would never undertake such a thing if one were not driven on by some demon whom one can neither resist nor understand. For all one knows, that demon is simply the same instinct that makes a baby squall for attention."

George Orwell

I'm Not Alone

Yesterday I got a call from a writer friend who told me she was very depressed.  Why?  She’s about my age, has published 13 books and cannot find an agent.  She has a book she finished and is ready to go.  But none of the agents she wrote to wrote her back.  This is someone in the crime field who has had two series and a stand alone.  This isn’t an unknown. No agent even had the decency to say they weren’t interested.

So now she’s going to try writing to editors she’s met, but doesn’t know.  Her hopes are not up.  And she said to me, “I feel like I’m starting all over again.”  Didn’t I just write that very sentence in a post?

It’s not as though we’re baseball players and can’t cut it anymore.  And she has an actual finished novel.  Unlike me.  So you’d think someone would take a look at her novel, wouldn’t you?  We’ll see.

Meanwhile I’m in the pits.  A blank brain.  Nothing to write after I bought an new expensive chair for my office.  It’s not here yet, so maybe by the time it comes….nah.  Unlikely.

I feel terrible I have nothing to write and I also don’t want to write.  So what if I don’t publish twenty novels.  Who’s counting except for me?  The thing is, I feel I must write, I should write, I have to write.  WTF.

False Start

Thank you to everyone who wished me good luck and who were happy for me that I’d made a decision and started something new.

After that first chapter I realized that the form I’d set was leading me to write about myself (fictionally) and my family.  I can’t write about myself.  Just can’t do it.  Not unless I’m totally disguised.  I wasn’t disguised at all.  I might find another way to do this, but for now it’s going in the recycle bin.  At least Chapter 2 is.

Am I depressed?  Not exactly.  I’m worried.  Time is passing and I’m not sure how much time I have left.  Yes, I know, nobody is.  But I’ve reached a certain age where time is very important.  I’m so much closer to the end than the beginning.  Or even the middle. I feel pressured.  I’m pressuring myself, of course.  No one else is knocking down my door, or phoning me. It’s as if I’ve just begun on this journey and have no connections. 

And for me the ideas don’t come fast and furious as they once did.

Back to reading and thinking.

My advice? Carpe diem!

Chapter One

I started a new novel today.  Two and a half pages.  Here I go again.

Decision

I’ve finally decided to give up the novel that I’ve been working on for over a year.  I’ve never spent so much time on something and then quit.  But I know in my gut that it’s the right thing to do.

I’m going to start something new.  I have a glimmer of an idea and I hope to get a first chapter done this week.  That may be all I do for awhile as I’m unsure of this and have to think more.  Or, writing the first chapter may give me the spark I need to go on right away.

You never know, do you?  Ain’t we got fun!

The Days Dwindle Down

I approach the start of another work week knowing I won’t be working.  I’m getting a bit tired of this now.  This week holds some medical stuff for me so I’d be interrupted anyway.  Still, I have to get a handle on what it is I’m going to do.  Nothing isn’t an option.  I’m still not sure which path to take: continue or start something new.  By next week at this time I hope to have that answer.

January and February are such good months to write, especially if you’re in the East.  It’s cold here, finally.  And I like writing during these months.  I’ve pretty much lost January and February is slipping away.  Okay, March is good, too.  But I don’t want to start up in April. I can pretty much tell that this summer will be a working one, unlike last summer.  Hate that.

As it is if I finish and sell a novel it won’t be published until 2008 or ‘09 and that’s not good.  Too long out of people’s thoughts.

But I’m reading and thinking.  It’s not a total loss.  Or is it?

More Will Be Revealed

Still not writing.  Reading.  Thinking.  Don’t know what I’m going to do.

Seesaw

I’m not writing.  I’m thinking.  I keep vacillating between trying to find a way to finish this book I’ve been working on and starting a new one.  I seem to have an idea for a new one, but who knows?

I’m also reading.

 

Having a Terrible Time, Wish You Were Here

Anyone, that is, who could save me.  I’ve hit the wall.  Really. I decided I was going to toss the book.  First Reader said not before I read it.

 

So FR read it.  She didn't give me the reaction I wanted which was, "You can't toss this.  It has the makings of a good book.  You have to do X,Y,Z and then this is how you'll get them down that slope to the conclusion."

 

Nope.

 

She liked a lot of it and said I had hard work to do.  Way too many characters, which I knew.  And she had no idea how to get to and write the 2nd act.  She had some ideas on what I should do with what I have.  But I had to coax the words "Don't toss it" out of her.  And they weren't quite those words.  I've blocked what they actually were but they meant the same thing. Grudgingly.

 

I've often had false starts and given up, but I've never had over 200 pages and quit.  I've always said this was the kind of crime novel I couldn't write and it seems that it's true.  But I don't want it to be true. I'm so depressed about it.  I know I could take the things FR told me and rework everything but then I'll eventually get to the same place.  I think.  FR doesn't think so.  She thinks if do some of the stuff she suggested it'll give me ideas on how to go on and resolve the sucker.  Maybe so.

 

Why not?  I don't have an idea for another book and can't imagine starting something else even if I did.  I don't have that secret novel I've always wanted to write. 

 

I guess there's an option to stop all together.  But that's a false option.  I might be able to do that for a week or two, but then I'd want to write something and I still might not have an idea and blah, blah, blah.

 

All the options are lousy.  Tomorrow looms.  What will I do?  I have to take some action.  I guess I'll get out those 4x5 cards that Martha O'Connor suggested awhile back and start putting the names and alliances on them, then tack them to my bulletin board.  I haven't had to do this for 30 years.  And that was with Some Unknown Person.  Come to think of it that had a cast of thousands.  But I always knew where that was going and didn't have trouble getting there.

 

I think I have to give it one more try. 

 

And please don’t tell me I should’ve outlined.

Why Can't I Be More Like a Gorman?

Or a Randisi?  Or a McBain?  A Westlake?  Ohmigod I can’t think of a woman.  Oh, well, the point is they’ve written hundreds of books.  Each one of them.  Especially Randisi and Gorman.  And while they’re writing novels they’re compiling anthologies.  And editing magazines and all kinds of stuff.  And they’re not writing in one genre either.  Gorman and Randisi write westerns as well as crime novels.  And horror novels.

I’m struggling to write my 20th novel but nothing stops them.  McBain is dead so I can only look back.  But the others are very much alive.  And very much writing.  And publishing.

Okay, after my day off last Wednesday I did write on Thursday.  Not much.  But I wrote.  Then I went to the movies on Friday.  I bet Randisi and Gorman don’t go to the movies on a possible work day.  I’m sure they don’t.

And will they take off tomorrow because it’s a holiday.  Of course not.  Will I?  Of course. There’s one last movie I have to catch before the Golden Globes tomorrow night.  You have to have priorities in this writing life, afterall.

Yes, I know.  Mine suck.  On Tuesday I’ll try again to be disciplined.  I do want to finish this 20th even if no one publishes it.  And I’ll probably want to do a 21st.  But I can’t get ahead of myself this way.

How do Randisi and Gorman and Westlake and the ones I’m forgetting do it?  Even if I worked seven days a week I could never write as many books as they.  And please don’t start thinking they’re hacks because they most definitely aren’t.  That’s not to say that every book they publish is wonderful.  But a lot are very good.  So it’s a mystery to me how they do it.

But I wish I could.

I Didn't Want To

That’s right.  I came into my office, turned on the computer, clicked on Word.  I finished a chapter yesterday so I had to set up a new chapter.  I did that.  And put the page number in.  And then I stared at it for a few seconds, minimized it.  I remembered I’d d/l a program yesterday that I hadn’t set up.  So I did that.  And that was the end of writing for the day.

Not because I distracted myself with a toy.  But because I didn’t want to write so I distracted myself.  I know from experience that if I go to email or launch my browser or do anything but bring up Word I will be done for.  So it wasn’t that I was an innocent in any way.

I didn’t want to write today.

Yesterday and the day before went well.  I liked what I wrote.  Didn’t read it again, but I felt it was good.

I didn’t want to write today.

Yes, I feel guilty.  But only a little.  Still, it isn’t what I said I was going to do when I started writing again after my hiatus.  I thought I’d get in at least a four day week.  I still could if I don’t go to the movies on Friday.

Oh, hell.  I didn’t want to write today and I didn’t.

Pulling Teeth

That’s what it was like.  Even so I got a chapter done.  But these people are not cooperating with me.  They change what they’re doing from one paragraph to the next.  And they’re still talking and talking.

A plan has been made by one person, but I’ll believe he follows through when I see it on the page.

I have no idea why I’ve started talking about my characters like this.  Am I trying to get distance?  Do I want to relinquish responsibility?  What the hell is going on?  Has anyone else ever had this attitude toward characters.  I never have before.  Maybe it’s because I’m NOT in control.  I mean by that that the characters are getting away from me.  I hope that’s not the case. 

It’s true that if I’d outlined this probably wouldn’t be happening.  But then I wouldn’t care.  So I’d rather be in this quandry.  I have to admit some of it has to do with my memory. A lot does.  It’s a little scary.  I’m not sure how to solve this problem.  If anyone has a suggestion, a tip, or a trick other than outlining I’d like to hear it.

Tomorrow I’m going to a movie…exactly as I said I would.

Tomorrow and Tomorrow

Tomorrow is almost here.  Why do I care?  I have to go back to writing my novel. I both dread and look forward to it.  I know what’s waiting for me, of course.  I have to get these people moving.  They have to make plans. Get schemes in place. Strategize.

They’ve put things off for too long.  All the duos or trios are made up of the right people.  Now I need to see some action.  Talk, talk, talk. They have to take matters into their own hands and get that money.  At least go after it.

This will start the second year (with lots of breaks) on this book.  And it’s only halfway done and is a first draft.  If I’m ever going to get it finished I can’t take so many vacations.  From now until about June I have to keep going.  Stick to my schedule.  I’ll still take Fridays off if there’s a good movie around.  But that’s it.  By June I’d like to have it done.  Final version.

Okay.  Tomorrow.  Barring acts of God I’m going to hit those keys. For sure.  

Tomorrow.

Hand Lang Syne

Changes

Those of you who have been long time readers of this blog might remember that last summer I had a few gigs and the publicity woman, Lindsey Benoit, was/is a favorite of mine.  Well, she’s left Ballantine. 

 At the time she was handling my publicity I said that if anyone ever got her they would be lucky indeed.  For the moment no one is going to get her…no book authors.  Although she’s staying in publishing it’s not book publishing.

I still have the paperback of Too Darn Hot coming out in May and although I don’t think they’ll want me to do anything you never know.  And if I have to, Lindsey won’t be there.

I’m happy for her because she’s continuing to do something she loves.  But she’ll be missed by me and those of you who won’t get a chance to work with her.

Good luck, Lindsey.

Quote

"(Writing novels is) like driving a car at night. You can only see as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way."

E. L. Doctorow

Why Not?

The publishing business takes a holiday from Thanksgiving through January 1.  At least that’s what every agent I’ve had has told me.  So what if I only had two?  I’ve heard it from others and I believe it.  So why not me?

Yes, I know it seems like I’ve had nothing but vacations.  Maybe it’s true.  Still, I’ve had one interruption after another and am going to next week. So why not take off the time?

 I started this book last January and when I get back to it (this January….why not?) I’ll have written less than 200 pages.  I’ve never had such a puny output in a year.  But this is the way it’s worked out and since I don’t have a deadline I don’t have to be hysterical about it.  There’s something to be said for not having a contract.

I think by this time we all know Ballantine isn’t going to ask me for anymore Faye Quick books.  I’ve known this ever since they said they had to wait and see how the second book did.

And if I needed confirmation about that I got it when the pb cover arrived and though it had the same artwork the overall color was purple.  The hc of Too Darn Hot had a red background denoting … hot.  What does purple say?  When I asked (and this was the BIG clue) why they changed it, I was told they had four other books coming out in red and they wanted to distinguish mine.  Thank you.  But why not change one of the other covers to purple since there was a real reason for mine to be red?  I think I know why not. So no surprises here.

Some worry that when I write things like the above, publishers/editors will think of me as a “nightmare author”.  I don’t think so.  First of all I accepted what Ballantine told me like a docile little writer because I knew it didn’t matter.  So what’s nightmarish about that?  And if I write a really good book I don’t think it’ll be turned down by an editor because I found the cover of my last book…well…not quite right.  If you want to see it go here.  But be sure to look at the hc jacket, too.  I mean, why not?

So back to the non-writing I’m doing.  Not doing?  I always take the week between Christmas and New Year's off anyway.  So that would leave me with 6 more days to write this year. Two of those 6 days would be interrupted with appointments. I don’t see much point in trying to write for 4 days. So I’d rather wait, get myself together and start fresh in a fresh new year.

2007 here I come.

Why not?

 

The Play'sThe Thing

Not writing.

Going to NYC tomorrow to see a play. 

Almost as good as writing.

 

One More Time

My last post prompted the To Outline  or Not to Outline debate again.  You can see it over at Lee Goldberg's blog.

Yes, I did make a mistake in my manuscript as I said below.  But, for me, outlining wouldn’t have prevented this.  BTW it’s all fixed and it wasn’t as big a deal as I thought it would be.  It never is, is it?

I’ve said it here before and I’ll say it here again.  If I had to outline a book I’d be so depressed I’d never write it.  I can’t imagine that it would be interesting to do.  I’d know far too much.

And this particular book couldn’t have been outlined even if I’d wanted to do that.  I think I explained way back how I approached this one.  I picked titles of movies out of a box. This gave me a jump start for each chapter and I established characters that way.  Also story.  I stopped doing this about chapter nine or ten.  I know it sounds crazy but it worked for me and that’s the point.  Outlining obviously works for some people and not for others.  So why should there be a debate about it?

Should I say that the only way to write a novel is to pick titles or sayings out of a box?  I don’t think so.  But it’s one way.  I never did this before and most likely will never do it again. 

Now, can we give the outline thing a rest?