Daunting

New day, new struggle. I have now told far too many people that I have started work on a novel. (If I hadn't already told you, well, I guess now you know...) But getting back into the saddle of writing isn't quite as easy as I'd expected. You know that saying "it's like riding a bicycle..."? Well it turns out that does not apply to everything. I sit in front of my computer screen or with my journal and a pen and sometimes the words come out no problem. But other times... It's like picking my French Horn up after not playing for 7 years - both entirely familiar and entirely foreign.

I have overwhelmed myself now. I find the whole process daunting, to be honest, because I want so badly to do it well.

Problems I am faced with on the particular project I have chosen? There are several.

I have envisioned a sort of Sex in the City set in San Diego with 5 female characters based on the most consistent members of my book club. This puts my potential novel squarely in the "Chick Lit" category - a genre that is stereotypically formulaic and unrealistic. I can accept that to an extent, but since my characters are based on real people that I really care about I do not want to turn any of them into caricatures. However, the characters are still fiction and need to be separated from their real-life counterparts. But how much should be fiction, how much non-fiction?

Problem #1: How do I give the characters recognizable features of a real person without attributing every neurosis of that person to fiction?

Problem #2: Defining the scope and goals of the novel as a whole. Even in flitty, awful chick lit there are always a few key issues that are neatly wrapped up by the end. Right now I have a series of personality traits and singular events, but I'm still brainstorming the ways to pull those things together into one cohesive narrative. You can't sell a novel that is just a collection of random experiences between girlfriends, even if the dialog IS witty and insightful.

Problem #3: Defining each character's individual "voice" so that we don't overlap. So often in this type of novel the way that authors get around this problem is by categorizing their characters into predetermined archetypes - the bitch, the disapproving one, the pretty boy, the gay best friend, the slutty/flirtatious coworker. I really don't want my characters to be so superficial that someone could write a facebook quiz about them like they do about Sex in the City: "OMG! I'm such a Carrie!"

So I'm following the most common recommendation I've gotten so far: Read. Read everything in the genre. Readreadread. And now suddenly everything I would do normally has become "research." The characters go to the gym and the movies and out to clubs and bars and get hit on by ridiculous men and sexy men and nervous men. The characters make great decisions concerning their careers and stupid decisions concerning relationships. Or vice versa. They talk to each other - a lot. (Be on alert, oh girlfriends mine, my ears are perked up for good dialog.)

And now, sigh, I must return to either writing or reading and stop using my blog as an avoidance tool.

Summer = Unorganized Thoughts

Went to see Julie & Julia over the weekend, the movie about Julia Child and a fan who spent a year cooking all 500+ recipes in her cookbook over the course of one year and then wrote a blog about it. Best line from the movie: "I could write a blog. I have thoughts."

Also saw (500) Days of Summer twice in the past week. Completely head-over-heels in love with the movie. So real and sad and hopeful at the same time. I connected. I want Tom as my new boyfriend. And I wish I had the courage to do karaoke.

So far (no surprise) there are no prospects for teaching jobs this year. I'm not sure if the reason the England thing hasn't happened is because I have a weak resume or because the economic situation across the pond is just as difficult as it is here, maybe worse (I prefer to assume the latter option), but either way I'm not really disappointed. Moving is a big deal for me. I'm not going to pick up my whole life and leave my entire support system for just any job - it has to be a unique opportunity to grow.

I continue looking for teaching work close to home but the prospects are bleak. In the meantime I needed something to keep my head going so that I don't completely lose it, so I've started writing again. It's been interesting getting back into it after so long. It feels like reconnecting with a lost friend. I know how to do this - write a novel? I've done it before. But at the same time it feels entirely new and scary. I'm a different writer now because I'm a different person now. The expectations - both mine and others' - are different, higher somehow. When you write as a teenager, nobody really takes it seriously so if it's awful, that's okay. But I'm supposed to know what I'm doing now. Even though I majored in Literature, not writing, and even though I teach high schoolers how to read books, not write them.

Did a single build day with Habitat San Diego this week. It was nice to be on a build site again, nice to feel like I'm doing something helpful and productive, nice to have completely sore muscles for the next two days. But it wasn't the same. I have to do another global village trip. Soon.