Time to dig out the Tome?
I woke up this Saturday morning thinking of my first novel. It’s a (as far as I can remember) a 190.000 word tome about an Icelandic woman who, in the process of moving back to Iceland, looses her name and the journey she needs to take to get it back sets her on a strange adventure that involves skydiving and the old Norse Gods. This is essentially the novel that taught me how to write. That first really big project that showed me just how strenuous and hair-pullingly difficult it can be to sit in front of a computer for eight (or more) hours a day and write (I've since learned that it sometimes pays to sit less hours by the computer). This is a weird tale, soft but loving.
The state of the prose, however, is another matter. I guess I’ll have to go find out, because this morning, for the first time ever I’m thinking of a cover for it. What kind of a cover would that book get? What kind of a cover would it deserve?
It might be foolish to publish it. I don’t know yet. I can’t remember how bad I thought it was the last time I checked it, which was years ago. I just know that in editing my new novel I’ve come to realize that I never did this kind of work on that one.
A lot of writers permanently keep those novels in their desk drawer, or in the attic, but I rather liked my first novel. I really did! I still think the idea behind it is good and the story inventive. It’s a story of someone who is seeking an identity and finding all kind of things she didn’t expect, like black cats, love and family secrets. It’s written in a very different time of my life, and so it might be interesting to investigate at least.
Yesterday I received an array of dating app commercials from Facebook, suddenly, a topic that can only have been triggered by a private conversation I had on messenger with a friend overseas. It triggered an irritation in me, at the state of the world today and how little one can do, which is a topic I try to stay away from because getting aggravated about politicians and people doing the wrong thing, or not doing the right thing, does nothing to change the world and only serves to make my life miserable. But when politicians are actively, openly spouting out racism and talking in a manner that would actively make our earth a worse place to live? Then it’s hard not to want to do something, act! But what can I do?
Well, there are several things a person can do, I guess. Vote, actively support politicians who say and do the right thing, take a stand.
But this morning it occurs to me that if I did pulled this book out of the hat and managed to make it as good as it can be, then perhaps, in its own strange way, it might make the world a slightly better place.
I guess these are the words of someone who hasn’t actually looked at it in quite a while. We’ll see later today, when I dig into the text a little. Maybe I’ll just throw it back into the drawer and say “good riddance,” or maybe these past weeks of editing have changed my perspective.
I guess we’ll find out. I'll keep you posted.
Also a friendly reminder that it's almost time for a new CHESTNUT. This time it's 3 flash fiction stories.
