I worry that I don't feel more excited about this book of mine. Shouldn't you be passionate about your art?
Then I think, maybe I'm being too hard on myself. After all, hatred is a passion.
March 2009 Archives
" 'Name the different kinds of people,' said Miss Lupescu. 'Now.'
"Bod thought for a moment. 'The living,' he said. 'Er. The dead.' He stopped. Then '...Cats?' he offered, uncertainly."
Had a dream last night that London had been decimated. Giant twisters of smoke rose from the dead city and I circled overhead in a helicopter, enjoying the show. Spent the morning trying to turn this into something fictional and doing all right, although my story has disturbing parallels to The Road. Maybe I can call it an homage.
I'm starting to wonder whether this is how Pynchon wound up with the mashed-banana-and-peas plot-quilt of Gravity's Rainbow. Maybe he started a new short story every day, finished none of them, and at the end of the year combined them into a book.
"Mashed banana and peas plot quilt"? What the hell?
Just nouns, Jim. Inspiring nouns.
My favorite bit from the commentary track of the Twilight DVD:
Rob Pattinson: "It is so crazy how you were literally two years old in 1998."
Kristen Stewart [somewhat icily]: "I was eight in 1998."
Pattinson does have the best contributions to the commentary. They almost exclusively deal with how he's looking in any given scene. He systematically disses his own plucked eyebrows, bouffant hairdo, confused expression, unscary appearance and poor acting. Kristen Stewart and director Catherine Hardwicke talk about technical aspects of filming and the other actors, but Pattinson is firmly focused on self-hatred.
There is also a moment when Pattinson and Stewart start giggling uncontrollably while Hardwicke is explaining something technical. I don't think it's even during one of their scenes. Finally, Hardwicke breaks off her explanation. "You guys!" she snaps. "WHAT?"
"Nothing," they lie, displaying more chemistry together in that one moment than they do in the entire film.
Got the giggles.
Here is a typical exchange between the heroine and her love interest:
"No! Edward! No, you can't do this."
"I have to, Bella, now please be quiet."
I leave it to your judgment.
National Novel Writing Month encourages participants to write a 50,000 word novel in one month.
It took me two months.
I would like to say there's some feeling of accomplishment or completion when you hit that 50,000 word marker, but in fact, no. 50,000 gets you to a little over 100 pages. Edith Wharton may be able to write a complete book in 100 pages but I cannot. If I continue producing at this rate, my first draft won't be finished for probably another 4 months.
Half a year! Half a year to write the world's worst and most unreadable book. Shouldn't you be able to toss off such a book in a few minutes?
If I am going to be a hack, I'd at least like to be a competent one.
