So, I’ve got the summer off between classes and I set myself the goal of finishing the first draft of The First Great Novel.
I figured two pages a day, five days a week is a decent goal. I know that when I’m on a roll, I can crank out a half a dozen pages without even breaking a sweat. The problem is to get rolling.
I’ve even got a day off, with nothing in particular that I have to do. I went through the usual morning routine of avoidances. I spent an hour or two running around the internet wasting time this morning. Then I had toast and coffee with Mrs. Novelist (usually a pleasant way to spend time). Then I watched an entire movie on TCM (a great old Navy flick). I browsed around here in WordPress for awhile, reading a few blogs I follow and wandering through a few random posts in topics that sounded interesting at the time. I’m also about to finish tipping all my neighbors in Restaurant Story. That pretty much runs the gamut of allowable diversions.
I’ve also completed the checklist of preparations. I had a couple cups of coffee and I’ve got a cold iced tea sitting here. I’ve got the headphones on and my favorite Blues station is jamming. So everything is ready. . . and instead I’m sitting here writing another blog post because I’m telling myself that my loyal blog followers expect to see something every couple of days. . . or else their loyalty will be short lived. And that’s important right? Because that’s the basis of my huge fan following that will be hanging on every word I can possibly write, just waiting to throw money at me for each succeeding Great Novel. That villa in Spain isn’t just going to buy itself, after all.
Except that none of that is going to happen until I can finish writing The First Novel. Hey, I did make some progress over the last couple days. . . we got to see a polo match. . . I got a character named after Chainsaw worked into the story as payback for him putting one into his named after me. . . I put a few more forgotten landmarks into the story. . . and now here are Protaginator and Protaginatrix (and her brother) about to sit down and have dinner at one of the most famous restaurants in Hollywood and. . .
Nothing. Like when you’re getting ready to go somewhere and you open the car door and you notice the light doesn’t come on. You pretend to ignore it, even though that nagging little voice that won’t fucking shut up says, “Dead battery, dead battery, neener neener neener.” You get in and stow your gear and slip the key in and. . . nothing.
Alright, damn it. My brain is like my old 1957 VW bus. I’ll just turn the key on, give it a mighty shove, leap into the seat, slam it into 2nd gear and pop the clutch. Oh yeah, there it goes. . . ::cough, sputter, bang, BANG, purrrrrrrrrrrrrr::