Facing It
First . . . a brief aside about filming the other day. The interview went very well. The film crew was lovely, the interviewer asked great questions. Then they had to have me look like I actually DO something all day. I paged through a coffee table book on Russia and took notes (while, conveniently, there was product placement on my kitchen table). They showed me typing. I type at incredible speeds, but still look at the keys and generally use about five fingers TOTAL, not five on each hand. Weird, yes, and the camerman discovered my "secret" as I typed--and laughed. I think he thinks I'm a little eccentric.
They filmed me in slippers (I didn't think my feet would be on camera). Then they filmed me sitting on my front step drinking coffee and staring, for inspiration, off into the distance. In fact, I think they showed me drinking coffee a lot. So if schoolchildren suddenly beg their parents for espresso machines for Christmas, you'll know why.
All right . . . down to the blog at hand. My Evie chapter wasn't working. It wasn't awful, but it wasn't as strong as the opening chapter. And this was now the opinion of four people--Mystery Beta, Writers' Cramp, and ME.
"But I know who Evie is in 2018," I said. And I realized that was where I needed to start. And as I wrote a new chapter for her last night, it flowed. There's even sex in it. (Usually, I take readers to the bedroom door, but oh, yes, you see Evie naked.) But as I wrote, I know why I had resisted.
The crux of Evie's story is her facing a fear so huge . . . so awful . . . and it is my unvoiced fear. As I pore my way through science texts and NY Times Crossword Puzzles, and I constantly cram more and more stuff into my brain . . . it is with the fear of losing that brain one day to Alzheimer's or dementia. In Evie's case, because there is a virus that mimics those diseases, people KNOW what is coming.
I have horrific fears of things happening to my children--but I couldn't even attempt to write a book about that. THIS fear though . . . this is the one I don't talk about. My mind is my playground. My mind is ME. My mind is full of memories of people no longer here, and memories that are mine alone. I've tucked them away, along with the recipe for cold soba noodle salad, and the phone number I had two houses ago, and the memory of the son of the town's garbageman who gave me my first kiss in first grade. Actually, I believe his father OWNED the town's garbage collection company, so he's probably very wealthy. Maybe he should look me up.
But yes, all that stuff cataloged and arranged--I picture file cabinets. Friends, lovers, science, math, books I've read, movies I've seen, Saturday morning cartoons, getting my tonsils out, weddings, funerals, the view from my room in Bermuda (I used to live there) . . . my children's births. Where I was on 9/11. The people I gathered around me that day. It's all there.
Beyond that, I realized something profound about writing last night. The words flowed near midnight. And I realized that we spend a lot of time telling ourselves to up the conflict, to make events dangerous, to raise the stakes. But sometimes, if you want to write something powerful, it's not about raising the stakes for your characters . . . it's about raising the stakes for YOU. How honest are you going to get? How close are you going to let this novel get to you?
I'm writing about my greatest fear. And when I open the file, I want to turn away.
And that my friends . . . is a very good thing.
Thoughts?
25 comments:
I think it is important to be emotionally involved with your characters, and fear is definitely one of the emotions that gets to the heart of it.
I admitted a woman with Alzheimers the other night. She was 91. She couldn't remember anything from one minute to the next. Long story, but what was remarkable to me was that she still had a sense of humor. She asked me (several times) if I was Clark Gable. She was flirting with me, LOL. Even though her short-term memory was aboslutle shot, I bet there were still memories from long ago that remained intact. There were still moments, however fleeting, of joy for her. You know? And up until a few days ago she had been physically healthy and living with her daughter (who, I should add, seemed to have the patience of a saint). So I'm not sure Alzheimer's is the worst thing that could happen when we get old. I've seen a lot of patients who I thought would be better off dead, but she wasn't one of them.
Jude:
I suppose it depends on what you value, what your experiences are. I was raised to value the mind above nearly all else, and the thought of losing that . . . but I know there are lots of awful diseases. For me, though, that it one fear that strikes deep.
I think either your own fear, or a fear you know torments many people. My WIP tackles some issues that make many people squirm - and my characters look at it from different angles because my point is that nothing is cut and dry. I want the story to raise questions - not to condone behaviors but to bring taboos to light. That's scary in and of itself because I've had a reader or two who digs in her heels and won't look at it but one way.
That is the scary part for me - releasing the depths of the issues and what people will think of ME for doing so. Because people do confuse fiction with truth, characters with authors. I guess if it gets that far it will be my honor to have it confused -- in print!
Amy:
I agree . . . if you've ever been in a book group, you can see it if you pick, say, an Anita Shreve. There is a core group of women who often don't even want to pick up and examine the idea of married people having affairs . . . or death/widowhood, or x or y.
E
I hope they were cute bunny slippers.
I recognize myself in my novel and no it isn't the little prodigy. I can't play a note of music.
Erica,
I think the "issue" with my story is that it's not adultery glamorized like in Desperate Housewives but I don't hang the ones involved either.
They are regular people...could be your next door neighbor...or best friend. It stirs fear in many, for sure. I'm hoping the reader doesn't feel misled...but I like the idea that we just don't know everything about everyone and that people are more than the sum of their mistakes.
I don't even for a second believe that it's a coincidence that the novels of mine that are successful (ie., published) involved a guy who tries to prevent bad guys from spreading horrible diseases and chemicals, and that it scares him to death as well. I'm clearly mining something quite frightening to me.
I worked on a thriller about Alzheimer's, Echoes of Memory, but my agent hated what I showed her, thus killing it, although I think there's definitely potential in the topic. If you read any thrillers by Peter Abraham, like Oblivion, he deals remarkably well with disease and laying them into a thriller format. Damned effective and disturbing books, too.
Perhaps I'm addressing my fear that there is no God? I wonder, considering the discussion the other day on the blog and Facebook.
I think it's a fear that strikes deep, and it might be at the root of SCAR.
As for Alzheimer's, yeah, big fear. Thing is, you won't KNOW. At least not for very long.
And not knowing is a big fear of mine.
"if you want to write something powerful, it's not about raising the stakes for your characters . . . it's about raising the stakes for YOU."
This is one of the wisest things you've ever said. Sometimes I find myself avoiding topics or characters because they are too uncomfortable for me.
Richmond:
I see some of myself in many of my characters--just bits and pieces.
E
Amy:
I'm with you, I think. I can read something morally ambiguous . . . .
E
Mark:
This isn't really a thriller. It's sort of a dystopic novel of the near-future with a time-traveling angel of death.
E
Starbucks:
I adore the religious themes that you explore in SCAR and can't wait to read it--PUBLISHED. :-)
E
Joe:
Somehow getting down deep into it for yourself necessarily makes for a more organic, more painful, more experiential book/read. At least I hope so.
I think that it is much more organic when you write about something living in your heart. Because you know the details and the fears, and people who are going through it recognize that and know that they are not alone.
I learned about grace from my aunt who cared for my grandfather when he got Alzheimers. And now I'm trying to be graceful with my mother in law, who has it as well.
Amy--I just learned from my high school best friend that she is divorcing her husband because she had a couple affairs (well, she's divorcing because of the problems in the marriage that led to her actions...). And she is terrified of what people think of her. Writing something that makes people put themselves in the shoes of others is an amazing thing. Not to condone, but to understand.
Wow, these posts and comments are touching on so much in my life these days, anyone want to comment on a messy house?
It's sort of a dystopic novel of the near-future with a time-traveling angel of death. -Erica
Wait did I miss something? Does she know she is going to lose her mind? Now that's an interesting question because I've always had that fear too but not knowing whether I will or not allows me to push it aside. If I knew for certain hmmm, would I commit suicide? I don't know.
Thx Erica. I'm having a bit of a downer day and that cheered me up! :)
Oh god, I'm terrified of that, too. When I was really sick, for about five or six years of it, I had that thing where your blood focuses on your vital organs and not so much on your brain. It was terrible. Having a conversation with me was painstaking work, as I'd forget what I was talking about EVERY sentence. I went from an A student who didn't study, to someone who would study something for HOURS and still not retain it.
And then there were years of white fuzzy blankness, where about once every few minutes, I would tell myself, "Think." Like... just have a thought, any thought, PLEASE DEAR GOD.
Maybe that's why I can't meditate very well and struggle to do yoga anymore. Once I clear my mind, I start to panic, LOL.
This is an interesting post and awesome comments. I haven't pinpointed my absolute greatest fears, but I'd say Alzheimer's is right up there. Watching my grandfather deteriorate from an engineer for GM to a man in slippers putting together puzzles is something that will always stay with me.
My current wip addresses some of the basic fears of normal people, one of which Heather addressed: that fear/embarrassment when the neighbors find out your spouse was cheating.
"How close are you going to let this novel get to you?"
One of my WIPs has it's roots in the death of a loved one. Someone I didn't know well, but got to know in his last, dying days. I saw in those days the loss of the future we could have had. I've got distance from the death, eighteen years worth, and never anticipated writing about it or being inspired by it but three years ago the first draft poured out of me. I'm not sure if this novel will ever see the light beyond my desk but it's pushing at me from deep within and that can't be anything but good for me as a writer.
Heather:
I agree . . . I don't know that any writer glamorizes certain behaviors . . . but if they exist, then why not try to explore them?
E
Richmond:
The angel is another POV. You didn't miss anything, LOL!
E
Natasha:
I think it's no coincidence that I am facing this/writing this as my autoimmune system once again shuts down.
E
melanie:
I think that's why your presmise is so gripping.
E
Paul:
Definitely. The "hard" books push you in new ways.
E
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