Lucky in love
Sep 13, 2003 Writing
Brett is willing to listen to me talk and talk and talk no matter how boring and I am and how often I repeat myself. For me (and maybe for many other writers, I don’t know) most of my writing work doesn’t happen at the table; most of it happens in my head. I’m not talking about the work I do for cold hard cash or for the occasional friendly essays but for the big stuff, the big essays or the major articles (the ones at Brain Child or Bitch for example) and now this book.
See, how it works is I have this idea and I maybe I’ve even put some of it on paper but then there’s a whole lot of soul searching while I figure out what I’m trying to do. I come back to the computer, I play around making notes to myself, and maybe I write a bit more but then I leave again and I work on it in my head.
For some reason, I get many epiphanies in the shower. I don’t know why. Maybe I’m programmed to think better in the rain. I also notice that when I’m working on something, I see things that relate to it all around me — in the books I’m reading, in the stories I hear, and in the people I visit. (As an aside, I will repeat that I think this is one huge value of homeschooling. When learning isn’t segregated and when children have the luxury to return to things over and over again, each time from a new perspective, life is much richer.)
Today I talked to Brett a whole bunch about my book. I’ve been thinking about what I’ve been reading in The Situation and the Story. I know what my situation is (secondary infertility) and now I’m trying to figure out the story. I do know what the story is not: it’s not a story about getting a baby, and it’s not a story about not getting a baby. My actual infertility story is pretty boring. I couldn’t have a baby so then I took some herbs. I had a bunch of miscarriages so then I took some Clomid. The Clomid didn’t work so we had one IUI then we ran out of insurance just as we ran out of patience and we stopped. Boring boring boring. So what makes it interesting? How can I find my story within the situation?
Writing anything brutally honest feels a little like being in 8th grade when a chance encounter with a boy would inspire a fetish for unremitting analysis of said event. Picture it: the boy walks by and as he does, he turns his head and says, “Hey” perhaps in my general direction. Well, as any former 8th grade girl knows, this is good for at least 87 conversations with a best friend. At least 46 of those conversations will focus totally on deconstructing the way he said, “Hey.”
“He said it and like he kinda twisted his head and glanced, you know, like ‘Hey’ and his eyes were maybe looking over my shoulder but maybe at me and he had that half-smile he has and he was like, ‘Hey’ just like that. ‘Hey.’ And he was maybe a little shy, I don’t know because of the way his head was tilted and maybe he was half-smiling in a shy way and maybe this is why he didn’t stop because he’s shy. Or maybe he doesn’t really like me and he was just half-smiling to be polite but the way he said it, ‘Hey’ was kinda, you know, like friendly maybe so it could be that he’s shy. Do you think he’s shy? Do you think he likes me?”
That’s what I’ve been doing to Brett while I try to figure out this damn story.
You have to be a bit of an ego maniac to do this kind of writing, which I am fortunate enough to be. I like analyzing myself to death and discussing past events ad nauseam. This is why I think a long-term relationship with another writer would be impossible for me. How would we decide who’s project deserved the most air time? Thus the reason this entry is titled “lucky in love” is because like that 8th grade best friend, Brett willingly listens. Not only does he listen but he listens with interest and provides useful feedback. I love this man.
September 14th, 2003 at 10:03 pm
You are lucky. It’s always good to know it when you got it.
September 14th, 2003 at 10:13 pm
i remember those! and then if you were lucky, you had several days of “hey” to contrast and compare, like one day he might have said it in front of his friends, which is key, and the other day he could have just said it hurriedly, which might be meaningful, etc. etc.
i get a lot of my epiphanies in the car, i don’tknow why either. i keep a little notebook in my glove compartment now.