Yesterday, the kids and I were talking about when my daughter was in preschool. I made the comment that it was nice--during the time she was in preschool, my son would nap and I would write.
"You have been working on your book that long?" my son asks.
"Well, I've started a few things along the way, and I've rewritten it a few times now but...yes."
"Mom! That's six years! That's almost my whole life!"
Chastened, I left the breakfast dishes in the sink and sat down with the computer while they played games downstairs. The last six years have slipped by rather quickly. I actually have made much progress but it never feels "done." I've got too many other stories in my head to keep wasting time with this one, however. I'm going to work on it NOW.
Well, after one more comment. I included Infinite Jest in a previous post as a book I feel guilty about not finishing. Much like the book I'm writing, I made it most of the way through but never finished. The author, David Foster Wallace, passed away recently. I wonder what he left unfinished.
4 comments:
Oh boy did I need this morning grin. I've often fantasized about "that interview" about my first published novel. When they ask, how long, I picture myself saying 38 years! (Although it was only 20-some years when the fantasy started.) But I suppose I can't count the first seven or so years of my life since I wasn't really writing then. So I guess I'll forever be subtracting 7 from whatever age I happen to be... LOL. I think it says something that you've had the endurance to work on a project for six years! Again, I look forward to reading when you are done.
I actually came back to post about David Foster Wallace. My husband was so upset. Sadly, it seems too often demons plague genius.
I always thought it would be cool yet ironic to write a book entitled "Unfinished Business" and fill it with all the thoughts, ideas and things I never finished. To top it off leave the book unfinished at the end.
Leaves room for a sequel I suppose. LOL!
My first book took me 10 years to write. And it stank to high heaven. But the next one will only take you a fraction of that time.
David Foster Wallace lived in my town and taught at the local college. What a tragedy.
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