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You didn't catch the hint from the poems page?
Okay, okay. It's title is Unpack My Heart. What is it about, you ask? In one sentence:
It is about a young woman, still in school, about her neighbor, a much older man who raises her, about the women in their lives, and about some complications that later develop.
Time: the present.
Setting(s): Sandy Creek, NV; Los Angeles, CA; Baxter Village, ME.
Genre: contemporary novel, a romance, of a sort.
Let's meet the characters, shall we? There are four primary characters and a growing host of minor characters for the four to play off of when they are not interacting with each other. Note that the pet names came long before I decided what was on their drivers' licenses. From youngest to oldest, they are:
Melinda Jean Towers, "Honey" or "Hon", a 5'11" well-tanned athelete, with straight blonde hair, an open, brilliant smile and eyes "that were the summer sky: deep and clear and perfect". Her 18th birthday is one of the key events in the story, though Jacob and she meet years earlier soon after he moved to town. She lives in Sandy Creek, NV and will go to MIT.
Amy Lynn Smallwood, "Luv" or "Mon Ami", is a 5'7" brunette with a wide, generous mouth and warm, brown eyes "you could dive in and swim around in". She's 10 years, or a little less, older than Melinda. She grew up in San Diego, went to UC Berkeley, and is a professional actor with a minor but recurring role in a popular sitcom; wants to become an idependent film maker. (Which, we'll see, is how she came to meet Jacob.) Lives in LA. Career minded. Single.
Jillian Anne Johnson, "Dearest" or "Amigo", is a 5'4" red-head who often sports a wicked, wicked grin and has lively green eyes. She has that form that makes one think "elfen". She grew up on a farm outside of Cleveland and went to Wellesley. Presently employed as a script writer for aforementioned sitcom; also lives in LA. Loves puns and wordplay. Divorced. (A nasty, brutal affair.) A few years older than Amy.
Jacob Samson Abrams, "Darling", is 5'9" and 20 years older still, but still has a full head of jet black hair. Has dark, dark eyes. Grew up in Baxter Village, ME but moved away to go to MIT. He's semi-retired as a contract programmer who was a former senior engineer who cashed out of the dot.com boom while it was still a boom. Only works to keep from getting bored. Moved west after his wife Emily's death some 4 years before.
To date, some minor characters that have appeared or were mentioned (with more to come):
Note well: the above names (and other details) are subject to change without notice!
As of 2002/09/21, I filled 280+ pages of the small bound notebooks I use for my writing. Not all of that material is for Unpack My Heart, but the majority of it is. My transcription into a proper manuscript has finally caught up; I've typed 42K words into MS-WORD.
And then I got stuck. As of 2004/05/15, I have eeked out 454 pages in my notebooks, but the new material is almost entirely other stories/characters. (Some of that was exploring the possibilities of The Trill saga.)
Those who know me are surprised that the first draft is not being written on a computer, but instead I am using a pen to put ink on paper. I have a set of small 9x7 bound notebooks I use to capture my words.
So, what's in the notebooks? Mostly narrative, but also notes to myself on the backgrounds of the characters, an outline of the plot, medical terminology (important in the latter part of the story), asides about the writing process, about modern culture and anything else I want to rant about, ideas for other stories, a poem or two, and even a letter I ended up not sending. But mostly narrative.
The writing has not proceeded by starting at page 1 and progressing in a straight line to the end. The first two pieces I put on paper were a short chapter from the middle of the story and the very last scene that concludes the book. (Thus, I know how it ends already; it's a happy ending.) For me, "Writing" entails mentally exploring some aspect of the story, usually a dialog, and then trying to capture my imagining on paper. But I stay open to the inspiration that strikes while I sit with my notebook, and sometimes I am completely surprised to find what my characters have said or done.
Most all of this pen and paper work happened with me sitting out in my lawn chair, getting a rather good tan (for a change). Or, sometimes I sprawl out on our waterbed in the evening. [I love my waterbed; it's warm.] But the thinking can happen any time and any place (though quiet is better) and I have been known to come home from work with notes scribbled on a Post-It or two.
So, what's it like, my notebook, if it's not just straight prose in narrative order? Vignettes, some long, some as short as a single line, that capture a moment, push forward the plot or illuminate a character. With lots and lots of dialog. My recognition of this characteristic of my story telling (that my characters never shut up) is the inspiration for the title, by the way. The full phrase in Hamlet is "unpack my heart with words." My characters are endlessly talking at, past and with each other.
Using pen and paper has its obvious advantages (no cords or batteries, e.g.) but some non-obvious ones as well. The paper is tangible in the most literal sense, it has a feel and a smell that give it a weight (pun) that pixels on a screen can't have. Also, the (slow but) visible progress through its pages directly reflect my progress in "the book".
All my life, for as far back I can remember, when my attention wasn't actually needed for some task at hand, and if I'm not ill or obsessing over something stressful, then my mind almost always wanders off in pursuit of some creative endeavor or other. My mind is constantly on duty, whether productively or not. This is especially true on walks, taking showers, or if I'm just lazing about in a recliner. (Which is where I was when I conceived Unpack My Heart.)
The thoughts may be mathematical or otherwise technical in nature (I am a geek, as the other web pages here will show.) or they may be an imagined lecture or conversation on some topic from a book, or a movie, or the news. Or, I sometimes write letters to friends in my head, although few of those are ever sent! Most often, however, I'm thinking up story lines and characters. When I was younger, the plot came first and the characters followed. At this stage of my life, it's the other way 'round.
Sometimes my fantasy is short and unconnected to anything in particular, a passing fancy never revisited. Sometimes it grows into an elaborate and ever expanding story line -- which is how my novel came to be. And sometimes it's the, um, ahem, sort of thing a gentleman doesn't usually discuss.
I've thought through considerably more backstory than I've committed to paper. Some of that backstory is really peripheral to the one I'm trying to tell, and will remain in the background. And some of the story I'm not emotionally prepared to handle yet. You have to understand that as I write, I'm emotionally connected to the events I'm relating. When they're happy, I feel good. When my characters cry, sometimes I do. Writing is a rather intimate experience. For me anyway.
There is even one character, Jill's ex-husband, that I detest so thoroughly that I won't even write him directly into the story. And I'm resisting the temptation to give Melinda the excuse and opportunity to beat the crap out of him if I ever do.
But why did I start to begin with?
It's a bit strange to me, that I've embarked on this adventure. But there was something about these four characters and how they took on a life of their own that just demanded I try to put it in writing.
I am not trying to write a grand masterpiece of devastating satire on the means and mores of the middle class, nor some dark, brooding exploration of suburbanite angst and desparation. But I do get to grind a few axes and exorcise a few demons. And I'll keep at it as long as I'm having fun.
The truth is, I'm following ideas that interest me and exploring aspects of the relationships that I find have the most meaning. But I have no idea if anyone else will share my delight in my characters and their lives. And I'm all too aware that, this being my first book, I am learning how to write as I go.
Finally, there is this whole "mid-life crisis" thing. What is it in the male that, somewhere around the years 45-55, seemingly forces a re-evaluation of life's priorities and prompts such sometimes radical changes? The acknowledgement of mortality is the accepted answer and I concede that the accepted wisdom is probably dead on. But that is only an impetus, not an explanation. Accumulated years of failures, of pain, of fear, of frustration: these force new answers to the questions that follow the initial "what the fuck am I doing, and why?" and "why aren't I happy?". The answers vary. Some men chase their youth with fast cars and faster women. Some take that chance and launch a new career. Some quietly despair.
Me? I'm writing a novel.
Created: June 25, 2001
Last Modified: May 15, 2004
URL: http://www.gis.net/~mckenney/rfm/rfm_novel.html
© 2001-2002,2004 Roland F. McKenney