R.B. Thurman's Blog, page 9

Lost and found.

I am prone to losing things. Keys, money, important documents, myself–anything that can be lost, I could find a way to lose.

As a result of my “need for a job,” I sought to liquidate some assets to soften the financial blow of “needing a job.” Things that held value: furniture, computers, and other electronics.  I didn’t possess multiple computers obviously, so I would need to do something with my book.

By this point, I started typing my book on my computer, and so losing my computer would be … traumatic. This trauma was mitigated by the hope that someday I will own a computer again, and would continue the story. It didn’t hurt that my writers’ block had yet to abate, so the sale of the computer was allowed to continue.

As a precaution, I made several backups: a double density and high density floppy disk, a Zip disk, and a rewritable CD, each with the book in multiple formats. My book was safe and future-proofed. (This is amusing now, considering NONE of these are used today by me. Though if I had to, I could look at a CD).  This pause did help, but not like I thought.

‘Having a job’ proved rewarding, enough so that I sought a place of my own. After a move, I purchased another computer, and was ready to start again.  However, there was a problem:  I lost my book.  All of them.  They were stored separately, to avoid them being damaged together (when you can’t find any of them, does it really matter?), so after a thorough search, I gave up.  It would be a few months before I could stomach a decision.  On what to do now.

I finally decided to start again.  It shouldn’t take much, I thought. I knew the story, and it’ll be better.  Yeah, this is an opportunity: a chance to fix everything I messed up in the previous draft.

So, I wrote three chapters… and gave up. Not that I didn’t try to get further. Rather, the beginning was to my liking at the time. The parts I wanted to adjust though were much further in, so it presented a challenge to rewrite a section I already liked.  I also felt there were details I was missing, including why I remember a particular action being taken, with nothing in the story at that point explaining the actions. After starting and stopping a few times, I was forced to shut my rewrite down out of frustration.

Moving is a chore

When I moved again a short time later, I wasn’t looking forward to it.  To make it a little easier to deal with, I decided to take the opportunity to clear the clutter and see what was actually needed.  I had a lot of junk.  A. LOT.

But, it would prove to be a rewarding effort.  In one of the last boxes I had to dump (it was a box I realized I hadn’t seen since I moved to this place–not sure how…), I found a pile of drawings I was looking for, and underneath…, wait. Seriously?

There they were. Together. Two floppy disks, a Zip disk, and a rewritable CD! (Who did this?  Why are they together?  They were supposed to be… Never mind).  I immediately copied the contents of each to my computer, as this was exactly what I thought it to be.

Finally, I had my book!  I could finally finish it!

Wait, what was the story again? What was giving me writers’ block?

By this point, so much time had passed, I had forgotten the story I was writing (we’re in a different century).  So, I read it again, to refresh. I found myself reading my book like everyone else will.  It was surprising how little of it I remembered writing, or what motivated me to convey a thought with these particular words.

Or, more surprising, how little detail there was.  I would read a section, and I would realize that half the story was missing.  I understood where I was going; as I read it, I could recall more and more plot points.  But, I was realizing most of them were still in my head as I was writing (see my previous post about writing SLOW…). This meant that I was paraphrasing to compensate: get enough of the story on the page to continue writing what I could. It also meant I needing to fill in some blanks I didn’t realize I left.

But, I also noticed something interesting.  As I finished reading this draft, I realized I didn’t remember the story the way I wrote it.  In fact, I looked at the three chapters I had started separately, and realized I had fixed my writing obstruction with those three chapters.  I suddenly knew where the story needed to go.

I finally could finish!

…

…

But wait, what do I do after that?

***

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The challenge of the written form.

Writing is hard. Very hard. Today, the challenge is finding the time.

When this book was started however, time was like air; I had more than I could ever need. But, I needed that time, since I write (and later, typed) very slow. Painfully slow. I would often struggle with getting the idea on the page as fast as it was conceived, only to realize I’ve only typed two paragraphs of the chapter my mind had written. I typed PAINFULLY SLOW.

But, I had time.

After all, This novel was never supposed to be. It started as a class assignment; short story of a certain length, in words. I’m sure you would like to know how many–I would. But, I can’t remember (that doesn’t surprise me). I do know the forward of my book is actually a lengthening of this story.

Interesting part is that the novel developed separately. I was working on a story for a graphic novel (this one was quite terrible, as I recall), and figured I would compose a storyline for the characters. These characters were mostly people I knew. Actually, they were the people I knew. Some were at one point actually named for them. Thus, when they read about themselves, some actually liked it! They wanted to see more. So, I wrote more, till I had what would form the foundation of this novel. It would take an investment of time that I could gladly make.

After all, I had time.

At this point, I would qualify my efforts by stating most of what was written at this point was bad, from what I can remember. About 7 chapters of my novel were on 24 pages of a composition book, and the last time I remember seeing it, its most endearing quality was being succinct. I realized that if you weren’t in this book, you probably wouldn’t read it, because the characters had the depth of cardboard, the dynamism of a octogenarian turtle, and the narrative prose of a tickled five year old. I felt a revision may be needed.

It was okay; I still had time.

So, I started again, taking my former ‘novel’ (now relegated to a mere ‘outline’) and turned it into a novella. With more time, the story began to take shape, more details emerged, and I was now typing fast enough to record most of them. The story took on a life of its own, the characters began to move through their space to discover the world I had created.

But, all good things must come to an end. Or, a pause, in this case. I realized as I neared the end of the book, I had written myself into a corner. The characters had all reached an impasse, and the last sentence I wrote for a time was basically a plea for direction. We were all lost in my story together, my characters looking to me for direction. And, I didn’t know what to do.

Worst of all: no more time.

Writers’ block was new for me. In the course of writing, I never found anything insurmountable in written form. But life had bled into my writing, and where I had some challenges in life (what do you mean, I need a job!? Whatever for!?), you must find a way to surmount the insurmountable. I set the book aside, to care for other matters briefly, and then return.

And indeed, my chance to complete my masterpiece came, so I looked to delve heartily into this book.

…

…

Wait, where did I put my book?

***

Thanks for coming by! Next time, I’ll touch on the one thing worse than writers’ block: losing your only copy of the manuscript.

R. B. Thurman

While today my vocation is the building trades, specifically Plumbing, Pipefitting, and other Industrial pipe work, when this novel was started, I was an aspiring artist.  I once composed a number of varied stories, primarily for a graphic novel series.  However, this novel was a beginning of an effort for a longer, exclusively word-based 'illustrated' story.


Like many projects of my youth, these required investments of time (and finances!) I could not commit to the endeavor.  My goal today is to complete that task, since I have more time (and finances!) to commit.


In the meantime, I have travelled some, and examined other novels to better understand my goal of completing this first novel.  And with experience, I have now have a direction for the series that will follow this first novel.  My vocation thus far has covered many fields, including construction, customer relations (under adversarial and more mundane circumstances), and the food services industry.  Not all my experiences necessarily influence the story, but many of the individuals I've met along the way have helped to give my characters depth.


When I started this novel, I wasn't sure if I would finish it.  Once it was completed, I then wondered, 'Why stop here?' I look forward to sharing with you this story.