A quick note can save the day. You’re writing, and you start worrying, “Do I have the scene right?” You get bogged down, derailed, and despondent.
In the middle of a chapter, unsure of where it was headed, I inserted this line: “Out to dinner with [the usual crowd—check and add].” That not sat on the page (it didn’t sit long). The music changed, a few paragraphs later, I got up and walked to a different room, and then the note became two pages of unstructured dialogue (see at the end). Will it all stay? I don’t know. The Gatsby-driven exchange may come out.
What I do know, none of it was there when I wrote the note “the usual crowd—check and add.” I kept writing. Advice: If you can’t find what you are looking for, drop in a note to yourself, and move on.
First, writing begets writing. Write something—anything—but write. Put down sentence after sentence. The connections will come. But start. Write holding pattern sentences as a warm-up, the same way you begin a workout with 3-5 minutes of easy exercise before grinding into the “real” work. It’s all real—and all necessary.
Second, never forget that everything can (will) be revised and rewritten. First drafts are first drafts are first drafts. Write it (even if it is temporary, even if you think you have finished), and let it go. It could stick around until the end (maybe there is something Gatsby-esque that will hold that part of the exchange), but don’t get obsessed, attached, or disgusted. Keep going.
A note to yourself can save your day. Just keep writing.
“You have a job?” Valerie was incredulous. “Did Richard find it for you?”
“No!” I answered too forcibly. While they had been my entrée, with this crowd, I felt too much in their shadow.
“The tooth brushing didn’t work out?” Jason asked.
“He told me about that. You’re as scandal, Aletheia. No wonder you never found a real job.”
“She told Jason that she was doing porn—brushing her teeth naked for old men.”
“Or a boyfriend.”
“Better than brushing naked old men’s teeth.”
“No, seriously, how did you get the job?”
“An old man hooked me up.”
“Connections.”
“Gumections.”
“Get it?”
“I get it, Wolfsheim.”
“Ha!”
“She’s pregnant.”
“No! Valerie!”
“You’re having wine?”
“Just a glass. I gave up cigarettes.”
“You mean, I gave up cigarettes.”
“Well, I’m carrying the package. It’s the least you could do.”
“I’ll have another.”
“Do you have morning sickness?”
“I have nicotine withdrawal. The poor thing will grow up with a pre-baked craving.”
“An itch it can’t scratch.”
“Have you picked out a name?”
“Jason’s great grandmother was named ‘Esmeralda.’ We can call her ‘Esme.’”
“Is it a girl?”
“Who knows, we just found out.”
“Just?” Looks shot back and forth across the table.
“Well, not just.” Jason placed his hand on Valerie’s. “Just enough. It might be a boy, but Val’s convinced.”
“She’s never wrong.”
“A baby and a job!”
“We’re getting old.”
“Speak for yourself.”
“Speak for yourself. I’ve always been old.”
“I hope I die.”
“You are old.”
“Here’s to getting old!”
continuoussearch 