It keeps raining here and this puts me in the right mood to write.
I’m writing a lot, Black Hood is going well, definitely better than pre-conference. Miss Atlas really hit all the right buttons and while before I used to get stuck and feel paralized, now I may be nervous, but I’m not scared anymore. It’s fiction, I can do what I want. I’m allowed to do what I want. If I want that character to be a complete asshole, I can write it that way. If I think those two characters should explicitly express the deep bond they share, I can let them. I realized I have to write the first draft for myself, as if no one will ever read it, because otherwise I’ll feel restrained and won’t let my imagination run wild and I won’t let myself go there. It’s a “dance as though no one is watching you” sort of thing. I’ll have all the time to tear it to pieces later. Also, soon I’ll get to the part where I can “recycle” bits of the previous (attempt of) draft, the one with the wrong PoV, and this Frankenstein creature will finally start coming to life.
Now, the idontknowhowthishappenedbutok part: I had an idea for a romance novel, which I’ll keep referring to as “the train story” ‘cause I don’t even have a title yet, and which I thought I was never going to develop. But Matera was so full of estrogens that I came back wanting to write that story so bad I can’t stop thinking about it. So, the other day, I outlined the plot and started writing the first chapter. I really like it so far and I’d like to keep working on it.
The only problem is that it’s a love story, and I know nothing about love. As i said in my previous post, my only experiences with men have been, well… not good. Not healthy. Barely consensual, most of the times, and they had definitely nothing to do with love anyway. So how can I write about love if I don’t even know what it feels like to be in a relationship? To be loved and cared for and to trust someone completely? Sure, I’m a writer, I spend my days making stuff up and I can make this up too if I want. But I don’t think it’s a good idea actually. It would have fake and kind of clichè don’t you think? written all over. “Write what you know”, that’s what they say, right?
So, for now, I decided I’ll focus on Black Hood, where I definitely know what I’m talking about. BUT I’ll always keep the notebook of “the train story” close, so every time I have an idea, a dialogue hits me, a scene pops up in my mind, I can scribble it down and save it for later, for when I’m actually ready. I know it could take years, but I’ve just put an end to that awful part of my life and realized that I want more, that I’m really ready to open up and fall in love, Eat Pray Love style.
I can feel I’m not mature enough to write the whole story yet, I have to, well, live first. Does this make any sense?
ps. The title of this post has actually nothing to do with the post itself. It comes from a random dialogue I had with myself yesterday:
– “Ok so these characters have to go inside without being seen nor heard by anyone. Describe that.”
– “Come on, description.”
– “Noumi was…uhm, walking, I guess? and… what?”
– “What do you mean “what”? Just write what they’re doing!”
– “I don’t know, my mind is blank, I want a sandwich.”
– “It’s not hard, you described all kinds of scenes before and now you can’t find the words for this stupid, super easy one?!?”
– “OMG FINE, it was a dark and stormy night and blahblah and then they went inside QUATTI COME GATTI*. Happy now?”
– “……….Yeah, I don’t think you can actually use that.”
– “I know. Dammit Mike ShowSha. Let’s go make a sandwich and forget this ever happened.”
* [ “Stealthy like cats”. In italian, with a roman accent, it just sounds funny. ]