boredom
I’m bored with the Rose Lake chapter. I feel as if I’m getting no nearer the end, even though I now have 474 pages. The end keeps receding. I remember a bit of this with my last novel, but it seems much worse now.
But also I keep thinking about what’s the point of this book, etc.--which is fatal. Or rather, I’m thinking it now, meaning that I feel stuck and blocked, and out of sorts. I wasted the morning in doing email and blog stuff, which is annoying. I sent off a story to the Mid American Review, which I pretended was productive, but it really wasn't.
Why are Carl and Jason going to Rose Lake? Is it for a good (novelistic) reason, or is it just because I liked Rose Lake and thought it was pretty, and because it’s in my notes, and therefore I ought to use it? I was interested in it because it's deep--70 feet. It was once an immense ravine that was dammed--not sure when. The deepness is interesting--Lake Erie is only 50 feet deep on average. Also, when I was there once, I heard someone shouting across the water, something about war and death. I suppose Rose Lake has an apocalyptic but scenic ambience for me. But is that a good reason to put it in the book?
The good part of writing this is that it inspired a blog post (yay—a new place to put my crabby thoughts about writing), and also, that I figured out why things that I write in Word come out funny on the blog. Blog—2 ; Novel—0.
It’s the end, stupid. Why can’t I get at the writing of it? Do I need some kind of intervention?
My writing friends gather round me in a comfortable, well-lit room with only one entrance. One of them takes my hand, possibly my science fiction writer friend. “We understand. We've all been through this. But it can’t go on.”
Another, the saintly T, says, “Yes, we’ve been worried about you. But you have to know that we all love and support you, no matter what.”
My sister (who is famous for her frankness and hatred of wasting time) says, “You have to end this novel, or else.”
Then we all have doughnuts while a single tear makes its way down my weathered cheek. I go home and practice writing "The End" over and over. I do epiphany exercises. I dream of closure.
But also I keep thinking about what’s the point of this book, etc.--which is fatal. Or rather, I’m thinking it now, meaning that I feel stuck and blocked, and out of sorts. I wasted the morning in doing email and blog stuff, which is annoying. I sent off a story to the Mid American Review, which I pretended was productive, but it really wasn't.
Why are Carl and Jason going to Rose Lake? Is it for a good (novelistic) reason, or is it just because I liked Rose Lake and thought it was pretty, and because it’s in my notes, and therefore I ought to use it? I was interested in it because it's deep--70 feet. It was once an immense ravine that was dammed--not sure when. The deepness is interesting--Lake Erie is only 50 feet deep on average. Also, when I was there once, I heard someone shouting across the water, something about war and death. I suppose Rose Lake has an apocalyptic but scenic ambience for me. But is that a good reason to put it in the book?
The good part of writing this is that it inspired a blog post (yay—a new place to put my crabby thoughts about writing), and also, that I figured out why things that I write in Word come out funny on the blog. Blog—2 ; Novel—0.
It’s the end, stupid. Why can’t I get at the writing of it? Do I need some kind of intervention?
My writing friends gather round me in a comfortable, well-lit room with only one entrance. One of them takes my hand, possibly my science fiction writer friend. “We understand. We've all been through this. But it can’t go on.”
Another, the saintly T, says, “Yes, we’ve been worried about you. But you have to know that we all love and support you, no matter what.”
My sister (who is famous for her frankness and hatred of wasting time) says, “You have to end this novel, or else.”
Then we all have doughnuts while a single tear makes its way down my weathered cheek. I go home and practice writing "The End" over and over. I do epiphany exercises. I dream of closure.
posted by mary grimm at 11:53 AM
8 Comments:
This probably isn't what you want to hear, but Rose Lake sounds really interesting.
Don't overthink it! Isn't that what you would tell me?
Well, why are Carl and Jason going to Rose Lake? Maybe you shouldn't think about the end coming (or being slow to) and just keep on writing (which I might point out has been going wonderfully well for you lately). Also, if we're having an intervention I think we should have ice cream.
Lucette: Here's a thought. Could your boredom/ambivalence about the Rose Lake chapter be a ruse that your mind is playing to distract you from the fact that there's something coming up in the novel that you feel unready to deal with? I've had that experience. On the other hand, maybe you're just ambivalent about the Rose Lake chapter.
Believe me, I know how you feel. Whenever I don't want to write something, it means its pretty important and/or difficult and it might turn out crappy the first few times around. I'm learning to like revision.
I imagine my writing friends reacting to my book too.
It's true that overthinking is fatal--overthinking is what happens when invention falters. Hmmm--an aphorism.
Why are they going to Rose Lake? I wish I knew.
Karen is probably right--in fact, I know she's right. The fear is palpable!
Which way are they going into Rose Lake -- the long walk from the parking lot, or the campground? If the campground -- are they staying there or did they sneak in or maybe they know someone there? Did someone call them there?
Good luck. I hate not knowing what to write. It's the bane of my life. That and knowing what to write but not doing it.
Good questions, Isaurine--in fact, they've driven there with a trailer-load of canoes!
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