Photo by Lienhard Schulz
Last week after finishing the first draft of a new young adult novel I decided to do something different. Usually in these circumstances, after taking a moment to celebrate–helium, trampolines, etc.–I return to another project that’s in a more advanced stage awaiting a rewrite. I do have one of those, but this time, perhaps masochistically (perhaps an oxymoron when it comes to writing), I wanted to face the blank page again.
That this endeavor happens to fall within NaNoWriMo (November is National Novel Writing Month) is a coincidence. I admire all who take on the challenge, but my intent here isn’t to rush to a finish but to dig in and develop something that stretches me creatively. It’s going take some time.
And because I’m not the type of writer who has an IDEAS file, a repository stuffed with the odd narrative strand or character bio or bits of dialogue, this means going back to the well in search of something fresh to set off my imagination.
Which also means convincing my curmudgeonly sidekick Psygor to help get me in and out of the well way out there in the middle of all those cold dark woods. He’s already predisposed to grumpiness so this is really not going to please him; not when he assumed he was done until 2016. It’s going to take a lot of Sanka and moon pies and “yes, stripes do do a fantastic job of concealing your hunchback” to get him out there.
But as formidable as Psygor’s griping and Sanka-breath are, going back to the well so soon is more daunting. It could be parched. It could be packed with mud. Even if it’s knee-deep in water those things squiggling around my ankles could just be half-formed, exposed-rib entities previously abandoned. But I have to try and hope something new is lurking down there, something alive that’s going to launch me out of my comfort zone.
And if that also includes launching me out of the well hopefully Psygor stops obsessing over his hunchback long enough to catch me.
I’ll wear my puffy clothes just in case.
