Garbage shoot

I wrote the first draft of a novel last year after swearing I’d never try to write one again.  I was in love at the time and being in love, I fell slightly in love with myself, which returned me to the awful notion that I could actually write a novel.  With some things I am persistent to the point of stubbornness–like writing novels.  After the first draft, I realized how horrible it was.  I decided to commit it to the waste basket, then the garbage shoot, but one night while in Paris, sitting alone in the bar of a hotel, an idea chanced upon me as to how I could make it better.

The novel was written in the third person.  I decided it should be written in the first person.  I meditated on the characters in the novel who would be the best candidate as the narrator.  None seemed a possibility.  Once again, I wanted to throw it down the garbage shoot.

I was driving home from Iowa from the Christmas holiday when the notion came to me that all I needed to do was add a first person narrator to the story, one who had not been in the first draft.  In January, I commenced to do just that.  I finished the second draft about a month ago.

I hated the second draft as much as the first when I finished.  The garbage shoot and the second manuscript seemed like best friends.  This past week I realized all it needs is a completely new plot.  But plots are hard things for my feeble imagination to create.

Now, its back to writing things on scraps of paper about the plot if and when they arrive from who knows where.  The Muse jabs me in the ribs every now and then, but not often enough.

I’ll write the third draft of the novel. for what is character and plot and the other elements of fiction?  They are fictions themselves.  Things we tell ourselves are necessary so we may keep going on.

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Published in: on July 20, 2009 at 10:25 pm  Leave a Comment  

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