Wally Also Said
Another Mary Said
Sounds ’bout right.
Saturday’s Theme Music
After a night of interesting dreams – no family, games or military, but soup, spilling, and reach – I awoke and turned to thinking about the novel-in-progress. I focused on where I’d stopped yesterday, conducting a what’s-next exercise. Then I catapulted into more generalities before spinning the wheel to think about the greater story.
The muses were present and engaged, so it was a comfortable exercise. One said, “We can do this,” and another said, “I know we can.” “Yes, we can,” a third said.
That’s when I realized that they were channeling a 1973 Pointer Sisters song, “Yes We Can Can”. Although mostly about politics, change, and unity, it’s a powerful, energetic song about trying and confidence, too.
We got to iron out our problems
and iron out our quarrels
and try to live as brothers.
And try to find peace within
without stepping on one another.
And do respect the women of the world.
Remember you all have mothers.
Read more: The Pointer Sisters – Yes We Can Can Lyrics |
Nineteen seventy-three. It was yesterday, and faraway. Here we are, dealing with madness in the White House, and setting up for more military conflict in the Middle-East. You know, because bombing other lands has all gone sooo well.
Beep…beep…beep
That’s the sound of me backing up. It annoys many others in the coffee shop when I back up when I’m writing. “Can you stop beeping?” they shout. “I’m on my cell and I can’t hear myself think.”
Sorry.
I’m backing up from yesterday’s writing. Oh, what a miserable day. I don’t know where the muses were, but they weren’t here. Did they stage a walk-out? Maybe. Don’t know.
I knew I had to make some links, slow down and let the story breathe, to improve the novel. That’s what I was trying to do. After a fitful session, I’d written a lot but I felt like it was horrible. I didn’t like it.
The muses agreed this morning. As soon as I awoke and finished thinking about my dreams (more family and dogs – WTH?), a muse rep said, “You know that stuff that you wrote yesterday?”
“Yes.”
“Well, it’s terrible.”
“I — ”
“It muddies the flow and does nothing for the pacing or coherency.”
“Yeah, I — ”
“This is what you need to do instead. First, delete all of that crap.”
“Crap is a little harsh, don’t yo — ”
“And then, this is what you write.” He proceeded to tell me.
I thought the proposal over. It was a lot better, and made more sense. I nodded. “Okay, I will. Thanks.”
My thanks went to empty air. The muse was gone. Guess they were off to help some other poor writer.
Got my coffee and took my first gulp of the blessed hot, dark, bitter brew. Time to write like crazy, at least one more time.
What Crap
Puzzling through the work-in-progress last night and this morning, I thought, the characters are good, and the writing is good, but the novel is crap. How do I fix this?
When I thought that last night, I thought it with a groan. Such recognition of the first draft’s state is expected but still a letdown. When I read the draft and thought it this morning, it was with a laugh. Few first drafts are not crap, so join the crowd. Glimmers of how to fix it were peeking through the murk, as well. Patience, discipline, and perseverance, I told myself. Yeah, you know where to stick your patience, discipline, and perseverance, don’t you?
The muses said, “Okay, let’s get busy.” They seem to be in a good mood, but that might be because I promised them a sugar-free, gluten-free, organic, GMO-free cookie, if they behave. I call such a cookie a “What’s-the-use?” Again, though, it’s for the muses.
Got my coffee. Time to write like crazy and start fixing this pig, at least one more time.
Michael Seidel, writer 