Jigsaw
So, my novel immersion class has the following homework: "Take four days off," which means, rest up, chum, because on Nov. 1 is the start of your 50,000 word struggle. Around Chateau Ryan, we're celebrating four days off by having my mom in town. So, it's perfect. No writing gets done. I'm following the homework to the letter.
Yet that ol' Catholic guilt re-emerges. Shouldn't be away from the keyboard too long, boyo. And like most guilt, there's a kernel of truth in there. Instead I'm taming that voice with the ugly but revealing assemblage of taking all the scenes of the novel and piecing them together into a whole unit. The result, an ugly quilt done by a schizophrenic artisan who appears to be easily depressed and distracted. The good news: it's more than 200 pages, tipping 55,000+ words. Even better news: I found a list of scenes I wrote earlier in the year, a crude schematic of the vital moments in the novel. All I have to do is take the two versions of the novel I have strung together (one based on my files at work, the other from files at home), reconcile them both into one master file, and then check it against the vital scenes. Then, write whatever's missing.
But looking over the cut-n-paste monster on the slab, I realize I'm more than halfway done. I don't think (read: I pray to every deity in the spiritual phone book) that I won't need another 50,000 words to get it done. As long as I actually get my butt in the chair and write without distraction, finishing the novel in November should be possible. Celebrations of the pizza variety are expected when the big day arrives.
Of course, when it's done, it'll be as ugly as sin, and it'll be a manuscript only an author can love. I'm leaning toward following the advice laid down by John Waters: "Never show anyone your first draft. Show them your third draft and say it's your first."
Bonus Movie Review
"Doom" - It sucks, but in a fun man-explosion, stop-thinking way. What, you were expecting Mamet? It's a movie about a video game, for cryin' out loud.
