When literary friends bailed me out plus (finally!) a National Book Lovers Day
Writing a novel is pretty fun — especially when you type, “The End.” Lol!
As a booklover, it’s been a little surreal to be on the other side of the table. Writing, instead of reading a story. Intimidating too, since I have so many sublime memories dating back to girlhood of hours spent riveted by an engrossing book.
Outside my childhood bedroom was a narrow balcony where I loved to hoist myself up onto the six-inch wide railing to read lying on my back. Twenty feet up.
Precarious.
Daring.
Perfect.
So, as I wrote my novel, my own expectations were super high. But often, I’d write my way into dead ends and get stuck. When this happened, my go-to move was to swivel right in my desk chair, scan the book spines on my bookshelves, and pull out the volume that beckoned to me. Opening it at random, I’d start reading. Like a friend throwing me a rope, inevitably the passages would haul me out of the impasse, and I’d be writing again.
In those frustrating moments, other authors felt like friends. Patiently taking heat out of my panic, or sparking a memory that would lead my story forward.
Let me show you what I mean.
First Lines that Kickstarted My Writing Back
I have never begun a novel with more misgiving.—W. Somerset Maugham, The Razor’s Edge (1944)
For sure, for sure! I’m on a first-name basis with Imposter Syndrome. She likes to pop up all snarky and mean: “You are a fraud. You don’t know what you’re doing. What a waste!” Still. Even now seven years after I wrote, rewrote, and then rewrote my novel again, learning writing craft, and researching Jo as I went. You know what shuts Imposter Syndrome down? Humility. There’s lots I don’t know, but I’m learning. Besides, not knowing is not an excuse for not starting. Asking for help. Taking the next step.
A story has no beginning or end; arbitrarily one chooses that moment of experience from which to look back or from which to look ahead.—Graham Greene, The End of the Affair (1951)
One of the mind-benders of writing fiction is to begin your story right at the point in which everything changes. The proverbial example is to start your story not when your character is shoved off the cliff, but just before she hits the ground. Ouch! I tried out several beginning points to my novel. One of my favorites was Jo’s first taste of independence in her early 20’s. Think Spring Break. She’s completed university studies, is far from home, and has just a few weeks before her return to the Netherlands. What happens? She meets another boarder looking for adventure just like her. Of course, Jo and her new friend sneak by the cranky boarding house matron to hit the town. Fun to write! And this did really happen. But it didn’t meet the standard. The Chapter One I ended up with is Jo confronting her husband Theo’s sudden death. A life-changer (I snuck a hint of Jo’s London antics into a flashback).
In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since.—F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby (1925)
One of my favorite lines from my dad is advice in a backhanded way. In 1986 I called Dad and Mom from NYC to tell them I was going to elope with a man I’d only known a few months. This was in the days before iPhones and their speaker function. Dad was on the wall phone in the kitchen; Mom was on the extension in their bedroom. After lots of questions about my husband-to-be (you can imagine!), I ultimately burst out, “I know you’ll love him!” To which Dad replied, “And if we don’t, we’ll never tell you.” Oh. Even now what a statement. I’ve tried to reflect that unconditional love in Jo and Theo’s devotion to each other.
You better not never tell nobody but God.—Alice Walker, The Color Purple (1982)
When dreams and wishes and hopes to write began to whisper in thought, inviting themselves to be realized, there was no safer, gentler place.
I had the story, bit by bit, from various people, and, as generally happens in such cases, each time it was a different story. —Edith Wharton, Ethan Fromme (1911)
My take on Jo van Gogh is different than others. Since all my professional life was spent in either industrial or financial worlds traditionally run by men, I became attuned to the slights, the ignoring, the help, and the maneuvering needed to walk a path in these environments. I know this crept into my writing as Jo had to negotiate her way through male-dominated art worlds.
When I wake up, the other side of the bed is cold.—Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (2008)
Before he retired, my husband travelled two—sometimes even three—weeks a month. During those absences, at night and in bed, I’d stuff pillows behind my back to resemble his presence. In my novel, I have Jo do the same after Theo’s gone.
I turned the Chrysler onto the Florida Turnpike with Rollo Kramer’s headless body in the trunk, and all the time I’m thinking I should’ve put some plastic down.—Victor Gischler, Gun Monkeys (2001)
To write like that!
Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show.—Charles Dickens, David Copperfield (1850)
Am I living a life of no regrets? True to my values, not according to what others say. Kind, tolerant, patient. No fanfare. No celebrity worship. A life of work and play and continuous learning. Writing my book is a means not an end.
We’re trying, right?
To quote David Whyte, “For I am here. And you are here. Together, we make the world.”
I’m grateful to be in yours.
Warmly,
P.S, Thursday, August 9 is “National Book Lovers Day” - woot!
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