Once I have a complete draft I know it’s going to happen

Pretty much every moment up until the completion of the first draft I am uncertain that there will be a finished book. But once I have a complete draft I know it’s going to happen. Even if it is radically rewritten. Even if I have to throw away large chunks. There will be a book.

I love this part. Because this is where I get in and get dirty. The real work of taking those words and turning them into an actual novel of goodness.

—Justine Larbalestier

The story has a shape, and that comes first

I have been writing about writers and their families so it is strange that the idea of rights versus responsibilities does not preoccupy me. I feel that I have only rights, and that my sole responsibility is to the reader, and is to make things work for someone I will never meet. I feel just fine about ignoring or bypassing the rights of people I have known and loved to be rendered faithfully, or to be left in peace, and out of novels. It is odd that the right these people have to be left alone, not transformed, seems so ludicrous.
…
The story has a shape, and that comes first, and then the story and its shape need substance and nourishment from the haunting past, clear memories or incidents suddenly remembered or invented, erased or enriched. Then the phrases and sentences begin, another day’s work. And if I am lucky, what comes into shape will, despite all the fragility and all the unease, seem more real and more true, be more affecting and enduring, than the news today, or the facts of the case, or the beams of Tuskar Rock Lighthouse as night falls and the real darkness comes.

—Colm Tóibín

Project 366 – Week 30

204/366
the highway is filled
with people on vacation
I am so jealous

205/366
it’s raining, raining
like the sky is weeping with joy
grading almost done

206/366
day starts with a run
along the seawall, ends with
platters of sushi

207/366
seen: just off main street
a scrawny coyote hope-
fully lingering

208/366
overheard: “I think
one of my ovaries is
broken.” TMI!

209/366
it’s Canadian
TV for the win… 2 weeks
of wacky sports— live!

210/366
daytime in London
is middle of the night here
so much for sleeping!

If you don’t know it’s impossible it’s easier to do

When you start out on a career in the arts you have no idea what you are doing.

This is great. People who know what they are doing know the rules, and know what is possible and impossible. You do not. And you should not. The rules on what is possible and impossible in the arts were made by people who had not tested the bounds of the possible by going beyond them. And you can.

If you don’t know it’s impossible it’s easier to do. And because nobody’s done it before, they haven’t made up rules to stop anyone doing that again, yet.

—Neil Gaiman

Project 366 – Week 29

197/366
veil of gray descends
keep the curtains drawn, hold in
yesterday’s summer

198/366
never quite believe
good news when I hear it; too
much disappointment

199/366
grading misery—
worse when it isn’t going
to be done on time

200/366
crawl into bed at
seven p.m., sleep and sleep
for eleven hours

201/366
driving into heat
waves shimmering on the road,
sliding in the lake

202/366
menacing clouds fill
the sky, thick heat presses down—
thunder + lightning

203/366
embroidery floss,
safety pins, and half-hitches
make friendship bracelets

When I write about books…

This. (speaking of writing about books… eep. so behind.)

I don’t normally write reviews; when I write about books, I more just pontificate and/or relate the book to other things I’m thinking about.

—Sonya Chung

Project 366 – Week 28

190/366
UBC bio-
diversity museum,
Indian buffet

191/366
invite to dinner
in a neighborhood I can’t
afford to live in

192/366
first we eat breakfast
outside, then we say goodbye.
time to do laundry.

193/366
over-scented tourists
stumble when the bus brakes, snap
“we don’t take transit!”

194/366
it’s a catch-up day
if I were more organized
I wouldn’t need these

195/366
a man chats on his
cell phone as he cycles by:
“I’m just cycling home”

196/366
freshly brewed iced tea.
sit and sip, enjoy the sun
as it disappears

Write something dangerous

What’s your advice to new writers?

Don’t give a shit. Don’t care. Books, until recently, were dangerous: banned, burned, watched. Write something dangerous. Say something you shouldn’t. Blow something up. But well.

—Shalom Auslander