Writing Update: Researching egyptian deities...

1106
words

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Location:
Oolong Tea House

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Musical Inspiration:
Joe Henry - Tiny Voices

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Montana circled around behind us then loped in front, trying to get the game to continue, and Claire flung her arms wide and stepped toward him, and he thrilled to the gesture of a chase, darting back and tearing around us. This continued all the way to the bridge, at which point he left us and trotted back to his porch. Perhaps he watched us all the way up the long path to the church, and saw where we disappeared into the brush. Perhaps he took note of the location and longed to go hunt for the stick. But he rarely crossed over the creek.

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I'm finishing up a few last parts of the first section, including the long sequence that I had started working on yesterday. My research today was on vintage cigarettes, and particular the early 20th century trendy Egyptian Deities. 

Writing Update: Malice of Childhood

1499
words

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Location:
Vendome Cafe

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Imbibement:
2 double americanos

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Jonas and Ilsa were both looking to me, as though I should do something. So I was relieved when Claire stepped forward and stood over them like a boxing referee, but she allowed it to continue a little longer as her brother's cries got more desperate. Only when he went silent did she put a hand on Ewa's shoulder and say her name. Ewa swung her arm around to break Claire's grip off her, then swung down again upon Samuel. Claire stepped back, gathered herself, then stepped forward and gripped Ewa's neck, pulled her back and upright, and locked her arm around Ewa, who flailed in response. Claire knew a thing or two about breaking up fights. 

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I had an excellent writing session today. One of the challenges I've been struggling with is trying to capture the relationships between the children within the community, making them behave like real children and not just tiny adults. There's a fascinating world of secrets, alliances, and betrayals, but it's anchored in a genuine love for one-another.

A couple days ago, Janine and I watched Where the Wild Things Are. While the greatest appeals to the film are the costumes, cinematography, and soundtrack, I also appreciated the writing; it seemed to me to be a very honest and real interpretation of how relationships within a family would unfold if we were all as uncensored as children. The anger, envy, and violence is all rooted in love. And in particular, I loved that Max had this idea that they could have a big fight and work out all their emotions that way, but that he then did what any kid would do and pick the teams to the best of his advantage and surround himself with his closest friends. I think childhood fights can be cathartic, but only when you fight with your friends and make alliances with your enemies. I also thought that the movie had some interesting things to say about dreams, but I'll save that for another post.

Anyway, I'm trying to channel a little of WtWTA in my writing today, focusing on the malicious edge that children often have, but understand that it comes from a very loving place. I'm happy with the results so far and may revisit earlier passages to make them better reflect what I've written today.

Lens flares!!!

Writing Update: Filling in some holes

752
words

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Location:
kitchen counter

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Imbibement:
brown cow

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They were in the midst of a game of hide and seek, but even were they not thus occupied, they would not acknowledge me. Those who were already out continued speaking when I came near. Thomas was telling the others about something he had seen in town. Even with no adults around we had to lean in close enough to hear him. Girls smoking. Boys too, but the boys were not so much news. We all nodded in satisfaction at the story, even though I caught only the last few words of it. I wanted add to the conversation what Greta had told me about Mrs Meuller, but it was a secret, and regardless of that, I wasn't convinced of its authenticity. So I let Thomas tell his story from the beginning again. The thought of Mrs Meuller smoking in the toilet in the church basement was unpleasant. But these girls were different.
"Why do people smoke?" I asked.
Everyone was silent for a bit.
"My dad says that people smoke instead of praying."
Ewa snorted, but I gave her a little punch in her shoulder and then waived my hand to Samuel like I wanted him to keep talking. "Why smoke instead of pray?"
"It gives you peace, he said. He said it's a false peace, but for a moment you feel like your problems just sort of float away."
Girls smoking instead of praying. Sinners. In my mind, they were all blondes, with crisp clothes and lips like strawberries, not like Claire - black hair with cobwebs and tangles and burs all down her skirt and her lips bruised blue like saskatoons. Claire, who drew close to us: she was it, and she had searched through all the usual spots where we hid. Jonas nodded toward the loading chute.

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This is the first post of what I hope will be a regular feature in this space: an ongoing blog of my progress on my upcoming novel.

I've returned to the first part of the book to fill in any of the holes and get the narrative complete before moving on; a few missing details were preventing me from properly working on the second part of the book. Unfortunately, the reason that these passages were skipped on the first few passes over the section was because they're particularly tricky. So in returning to them, I'm finding the writing moves very slowly, but tonight I'm filling in a lot of those little holes, so it's a productive session.

What I've been working on: Prescience

I don't remember much about Laura Nagel prior to her car missing a corner and plunging 175 feet,  crumpling upon itself on the valley floor. I don't even remember that, as I didn't see it. But Jonas did. Though he didn't see it leave the road; he turned just to see the weight of the engine block pulling the white Valiant down to earth like the most poorly designed bird. 

I'm currently working hard on my second novel during breaks from parenting. I'm hoping to complete it sometime in 2010, and while progress is slow right now, I'm really excited by the ideas in it. When I was working on Correction Road, I gave it the working title Omniscience for reasons that will be obvious to anyone who's read the book. I gave my current project the working title Prescience, which reflects how it, like Correction Road, is very interested in problems of the mind. 

But at its heart, Prescience is about doubt and belief, and in particular how a centrist perspective of unbelief is treated by both believers and disbelievers. While the words have theological implications, I was actually thinking about how (particularly American) politics had become so polarized that advocating a moderate perspective was almost impossible. Like Correction Road, Prescience is set in a rural community, in this case a insular, religious immigrant community where one girl seems to have an unlikely gift. The story is told by her friend and eventual lover who struggles with his own reaction to her talents. 

I'll be posting my progress on the novel from time to time and share segments of my writing.