Today began before dawn, and it is now after dusk. I am watching the candle burn in front of me, here in The Little Room. I realize that I need some natural light, and perhaps I'll get some tomorrow, but in this world of the indirect, every colored shimmer is like a character, or a shooting star of a character, or a sentence waiting to be punctuated, or even just a word, wanting a home.
I have to reach up and grab the streaks of light like fireflies. But I can't squeeze too hard. These flashes are too precious.
Yes, too much caffeine, probably, at this point.
This morning, nearly 12,000 words of Eleanor reached The Faulkner House at Pirate's Alley in New Orleans. Last year, a version of Eleanor did pretty well in that competition, and a couple of editors took notice, gave good notes (notes I agreed with, that is), so I've taken what I had, and started over.
Eleanor likes it when I start over, because then I'm not finished with her, and she can keep growing, keep evolving. And I like being inside Eleanor's world. Which -- is my world, too.
Per Mr. Faulkner (fitting, this quote in the post below), sometimes you need to throw it all away before you can find the sparkle, the truth -- the heart. Everything holds the possibility of a new beginning, or an ending. We make the choice.
I have a great agent, the best agent in the world -- Stephanie, who waits patiently for me. ... Stephanie, who cares as much about the words as I do, even in a business driven by money. She's not giving up on me, so I cannot, in good conscience, give up on myself.
But right now, my eyes are tired, and I'm reaching for those fireflies, but missing most of them. The candle burns lower, little by little.
Perhaps I'll sleep in this chair tonight. What happens after, I don't know -- but I need to keep pushing myself. Am I working hard enough? I can't answer that. It's only Day Four; almost the beginning of Day Five.
The answer will come, in due time. As much as I want to rush it, I need to wait.
To Reach The Green Light At The End Of The Pier
FOR AS LONG AS IT TAKES: "We are saving ourselves through the words," says Eleanor, the leading lady of a novel-in-progress. This exploration into the creative process -- which includes plenty of distractions/tangents /thoughts & rants by Eleanor, her Biographer, and selected guest artists -- will continue until Eleanor is certain her story is "right." (But we dare not jump ahead of ourselves.)
There will be the occasional typo (as Eleanor points out), and much of this is intended to be "original draft" -- what comes out of our mouths (heads) first, and then set down in that order. Not all of it will be included in the novel, but all of it is happening in real time.
ELEANOR says: "Please turn the page. Keep reading."
For more of Eleanor and her Biographer -- as well as the work of our many guest artists -- check out the older postings. "Everything is part of the process, and the process is the journey," Eleanor says.