The Journey To My New Novel, Pt. 3
I will tell you this: Sometimes "Why aren't you writing?" is a good question
This is a continuing series about how my novel, Every Moment Since (out 10/1/24) made its stop-start way into the world. The song lyrics “God bless the broken road…” are coming to mind as I write this, for it was a broken road indeed. But no matter how broken the road is, all that matters is that you stay on it. That’s why I’m sharing this series with you— to encourage you in whatever dream you might be pursuing. It doesn’t have to be writing a novel, it can be anything you’re going after that might feel impossible at the moment. I hope this will encourage you.
When we left off, I had stopped writing my fledgling draft because I got spooked by secondhand information. Looking back, this was shortsighted and totally fear-motivated. But that’s what I did and, I have to think now, the pause was part of the process. At that time, though, the process looked a lot like doing NOTHING. And when I say nothing, what I mean is nothing.
We had one child left at home. The world was pretty much on lockdown still (this was late fall of 2020) so there wasn’t much to do. I made lots of meals, since we weren’t eating out much, and watched a lot of “dump and go” crockpot videos on You Tube. (If you’ve never seen these, I have to say that at that time they were lifesaving. So many ideas! And so easy!) I played with my planners (though what I was planning I couldn’t say) and watched a lot of You Tube planning videos. (Yes, those are a thing.)
Mostly I did what I call putzing around. My mother in law calls it piddling. Whatever you call it, that’s what I did. For months.
And then it was 2021. And on the very first day of the brand new year, my husband bravely uttered words that very few husbands live to tell about. He asked me, “I see you doing things back there (back there is my office) but I can’t figure out what it is you’re doing. So… what are you doing all day?”
Yes, I let him live. Because his next question was right on target, and one I needed to be asked. “Why aren’t you writing? You’re not happy unless you’re writing and… I can tell you’re not happy.”
And so I told him that I write contemporary fiction (as if he didn’t know that) and that any book I would write at that moment wouldn’t be out for another 2 years (roughly) and how could I write about a future I could no longer envision? Would we be back out in the world by then? Would people be going on dates? If not, how will they be interacting? “I can’t write into a future I cannot see,” I said. It was a very good speech, if I do say so myself. And it wasn’t untrue. I had some valid points. Points that actually had my husband nodding along. He understood and he let me off the hook.
But even as he did, standing in front of him, a voice inside me said, “You do have that book that takes place in 1985 and 2006. You could write about that.”
I didn’t say a word to my husband about that, though. But I did go into my room and take out my laptop and go back to that story I’d started in the summer of 2020, the one that didn’t take place in a future I couldn't see. It took place in two time periods I’d already lived in, and was populated by a cast I felt I already knew. I re-read the words I’d written and thought, maybe…
I’ll be back next week to continue this story about a story. I hope you’ll be back, too.
❤️
I can imagine my husband doing something very similar... and looking back and being grateful for it!