The writing swing
Hereâ€™s another podcast from the golden voice of Rick Kleffel and our
recent show at KUSP. Same scary picture, though.
I am, finally, back in the swing of writing. The Language of Bees is now well over 100 pages, and growing at a rate of 2000 words a day, some more and some less.
I have an actual outline for this one, although inevitably every ten pages or so something comes up to render the outline completely inadequate and I have to pause and think about changes. This is not how I normally write. Normally, I set off into the book knowing more or less where Iâ€™m headed, but feeling like Iâ€™m navigating dark country roads with a compass and dicey headlights. A detailed outline, by comparison, functions as a GPS system to the fictional landscape, nagging at the driver every time she takes a detour (â€œRecalibrating location,â€ the voice declares with patient disdain.) My outline for this book, rather, is a nice friendly AAA map, slightly worn at the folds, maybe a little out of date so that some of the roads arenâ€™t listed, but the general sense of things keeps me moving in the right direction, and thereâ€™s plenty of room in the margins to pencil in comments as I go.
This does mean I feel on top of the plot, and have a sense that the story is going to hang together even in the first draft. On the other hand, Iâ€™m not finding that the characters are springing into life the way they do when the story meanders into backyards and byways as it goes. However, the only major character who comes into the story thus far has only been in Russellâ€™s presence briefly, after which he goes away, to hover unseen in the background. So I think the sense of incompleteness will work itself out as I go along, and as I return to a group dynamic.
It is, I will say, a treat to get back (even fictionally) to England, in the summer. I have had some of the most glorious summers in England, day after day of heat and sun. Some wet and miserable weeks, as well, but we arenâ€™t concerned with those here. In Language of Bees it is August, and it is hot, and it is the countryside.
And mischief is brewingâ€¦