I took Millie to the airport yesterday. It's time to get back to work.
I used to have a bosse named Joe Bologna. Seriously, "Joe Baloney." About 5 foot 4, just a tough piece of leather. And every day, at the stroke of 7 a.m., he'd walk out of the office into the yard, a Pall Mall red dangling from his lip, and in a voice that must have reached every corner of the harbor, shout, "Let's go to work!"
And that's what I feel right now. "Let's go to work!"
I just need to fall back into a routine. Get Tori and Max off to their respective school's each morning (and sometimes that will mean driving Tori to Lafayette, sometimes just getting her out the door on time,) then settling down with a cup of coffee and writing. For hours.
During the interim I've certainly been thinking about the story, and like where it's at and where it's going. I just need to stop horsing around and write it. Thinking about a story is not the same as writing a book. You may quote me.
I'm at a tricky place. I intentionally delayed giving a lot of the exposition that would normally come earlier. Wanted to just dive into the action. And that works. But it's time. I've gotta get some information in. I've barely mentioned they're on Jamaica, and have given no indication about the era other than to mention a carriage drawn by a pair of horses.
My favorite Muppet movie is "The Great Muppet Caper." Partly because of the fantastic scene with John Cleese. "No need to go out, dear. The weather's been most disappointing ..." "And you said the pets are dead?" But there's a great scene near the beginning when Diana Rigg rattles off this long speech about how she's a fashiopn designer, and she doesn' trust her brother Nicky, who might even steal her largest and most valuable jewel, "the fabulous Baseball Diamond," and doesn't understand why his bow ties are always crooked.
Miss Piggy says, "Why are you telling me this?
"It's basic plot exposition," Rigg replies airily. "It has to go somewhere."
It does have to go somewhere. And this is where. Let's hope not as faux-clumsily as the Muppet writers did it, but it worked there because it was so damn funny. Brilliant.
Monday, October 1, 2012
Some people would call it writer's block, I suppose. I don't. I call it having a life, and you know what they say about that. Life is what happens while you're making other plans.
As I explain in our family blog, which I've also been ignoring, things have been pretty hectic around here. Mostly, good and busy, but hectic.
I was really hoping today to a) get some rest and b) get some writing done. But Millie has the day off from work and needs to get errands done. She leaves to go back to college in two weeks and has a lot of stuff to take care of. And this time when she leaves, she probably won't be back except for visits. She'll finish her program at AMDA in the spring, then get on with the challenge of trying to make a life in the very difficult career path she's chosen – show business.
Part of me heaved a sigh when she asked if I could keep the car today (instead of letting Tori drive to work.) I was really looking forward to not driving today.
But I've got all fall to finish the second draft of the book. I've got Millie for two more weeks. So as soon as she's up and ready, we'll be off.
(Oh, and I don't believe in writer's block, but that's a different discussion for a different day. I know exactly what I want to write. Carving out time to write it is the problem. That's not writer's block. That's being a dad.)