First you write the novel. . .

It’s tempting to believe that a traditional publisher will take care of everything once my novel gets accepted for publication.  All I will have to do is sit back with a frosty drink under the palms, enjoy my new readers, and maybe make a few dollars to boot. I admit that I get a pang of jealousy when someone I know has a book about to be released by one of the Big Six. Truth be told,  I have never been able to deal with all the rigamarole surrounding the business. Maybe I’m too impatient, maybe too thin-skinned, but they always seemed to hold all the cards and I have always hated asking for things.

Many authors disagree with me and say that it’s just too much to do – to publicize the work yourself after all that labor. “Publication is not the business of poets” said Virginia Wolfe (although I cannot find the quotation) a little less than a century ago. Ah, would that it were still so, but I suspect that it truly is not. And if I think that as a new novelist I will get much promotional help from a publisher, I’m probably dreaming.

If you haven’t read this rave by Jessica Park, please have a look. It’s very thorough and credible, chronicling all the heartbreak and second guessing so common to writers.

I’m close to releasing a short piece – a 6000 word short story entitled Say Nothing that was critiqued by my writing group. I plan to put it out on Kindle. My sister created this gorgeous woodblock print for the cover, so now I have no choice, I have to release it.  It’s great to have control over the appearance of the work, and lucky to have a friendly family member with talent, something else I would be denied the use of by a trad publisher.

I published a number of short stories over the years in traditional lit and University presses but never shopped a collection, never really entered the fray, easily discouraged by the lack of interest and my perception of all the work I had ahead of me. Periodically I have tried to replace writing with other creative pursuits.

But the problem is that when you really love something it is impossible to let go of it. No matter how much I tried to ignore it, how much I read and painted and sewed, there remained a hole at the center of my life.

This is how I started.  I found a  small space where I wouldn’t be disturbed and began a novel. I storyboarded it, tweaked every scene so it ended on a suspenseful note, decided plot in advance and scene by agonizing scene I crafted a clever, plot based (never easy for me) novel with twists and turns of which I was inordinately proud.

This happened five years ago.

Had I known then that this was destined to be the novel in the drawer, I might of – well I probably would have written it anyway. I still dream of picking it up again and making it work. The premise was good, about identity and the price of past actions.  It was called Inside Job or sometimes The Republic of I, depending on how highbrow I was feeling on a particular day. The problem was that I held the story too tightly, wouldn’t let it breathe. I was so afraid that it would escape,  so I monitored every turn of phrase, held it hostage.

Could it have worked. Yes, of course. But I much prefer trusting that character will lead me where I should be going. So this story begins with a strong central character.

As I write this novel, I plan to chronicle my journey, including the complications and joys of fact checking this historical piece of fiction. Every Sunday I will share the previous weeks triumphs and snags on my work-in-progress, No Name Key, the opening available here. If anyone is undertaking a similar journey, please share your thoughts about process. I would love that.

I’m about 30,000 words into the story. I expect the finished work will be about 70,000 words or so.

This one, dammit, will get done. And revised. And polished.  I also have a few people interested in seeing it when that magic day arrives. More on that next Sunday.