Everything I Know Update
There was a moment in mid-October when it hit me that I'd actually be able to finish the book that I was working on:
Everything I Know.
That's because I reached a point in the writing where the characters took over and pointed me in the direction of the ending.
Writing is a really weird thing.
I'll show you the black notebook on this one sometime, when the box set of everything someday comes out.
Little snippets of thoughts written as I drive down the street.
Conversations that stick in my head...meaning nothing to the guy who is on the other end of the talk...and me.
There's still work to do, of course, but last weekend I sat down with the book on the Notepad and read it through as if I were just picking the book off the shelf at Barnes & Noble.
And I liked it.
Reading along like that is weird, as well, because there are sentences in there that surprise.
Whoa. Where did that come from?
I imagine that sounds strange to someone who knows that I'm the only one with access to the story.
(My beautiful wife and adorable children aren't breaking into the file and adding literary sentences).
Yet a lot of writing is done in a place where your brain doesn't actually normally reside.
All strange, I know!
I sent the book off to a few faithful readers and searched for their feedback.
I appreciate that they humor me by reading something that isn't there yet...and all of my usual readers add something to the story. A new reader added one thought to the book:
Is it going to slow down after the climactic part 200 pages in?
That was the sentence I needed.
It pointed everyone in the direction needed to finish it.
And I know that no one knows what the hell I'm talking about there, but you will soon enough, I hope.
He had force-fed me the ending with a simple sentence.
I've always said that the best part of doing this has nothing to do with anyone saying, "I loved it."
Or any money that it raises.
It's all in the excitement of reaching the final stage.
Knowing that it survived all the doubt, aggravation, long sessions, and scribbled notes.
"You're working on something?" My son asked me the other day. "When do you do that? I've never seen you working on it."
Well.
I'm always working on it.
I'm shooting for a March 8 finish.
Wish me, Sal, Elaine, Valerie, Jenna, Tyler and Max a lot of luck.
We're getting there.
Everything I Know.
That's because I reached a point in the writing where the characters took over and pointed me in the direction of the ending.
Writing is a really weird thing.
I'll show you the black notebook on this one sometime, when the box set of everything someday comes out.
Little snippets of thoughts written as I drive down the street.
Conversations that stick in my head...meaning nothing to the guy who is on the other end of the talk...and me.
There's still work to do, of course, but last weekend I sat down with the book on the Notepad and read it through as if I were just picking the book off the shelf at Barnes & Noble.
And I liked it.
Reading along like that is weird, as well, because there are sentences in there that surprise.
Whoa. Where did that come from?
I imagine that sounds strange to someone who knows that I'm the only one with access to the story.
(My beautiful wife and adorable children aren't breaking into the file and adding literary sentences).
Yet a lot of writing is done in a place where your brain doesn't actually normally reside.
All strange, I know!
I sent the book off to a few faithful readers and searched for their feedback.
I appreciate that they humor me by reading something that isn't there yet...and all of my usual readers add something to the story. A new reader added one thought to the book:
Is it going to slow down after the climactic part 200 pages in?
That was the sentence I needed.
It pointed everyone in the direction needed to finish it.
And I know that no one knows what the hell I'm talking about there, but you will soon enough, I hope.
He had force-fed me the ending with a simple sentence.
I've always said that the best part of doing this has nothing to do with anyone saying, "I loved it."
Or any money that it raises.
It's all in the excitement of reaching the final stage.
Knowing that it survived all the doubt, aggravation, long sessions, and scribbled notes.
"You're working on something?" My son asked me the other day. "When do you do that? I've never seen you working on it."
Well.
I'm always working on it.
I'm shooting for a March 8 finish.
Wish me, Sal, Elaine, Valerie, Jenna, Tyler and Max a lot of luck.
We're getting there.
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