Seven Random or Weird Book Facts

Hi. I haven’t been able to look at my manuscript and write or edit/work on finishing it since last Saturday.

Yeah. I’m frustrated. But I’m hoping that being forced by circumstance to take this time off will end up being a blessing – the fresh perspective thing. I guess I’ll know about that theory panning out when I’m finally able to sit back down again in front of this screen I’m looking at now, early on Sunday morning, and have some quiet time (that’s when my hiatus starts over again).

Meanwhile, Pete tagged me with his “seven random or weird book facts” meme, which worked out really well, because I'm antsy to be writing...

So, here I go.

1. I decided I’d write a book when I was a little kid – maybe somewhere in the neighborhood of six to eight. I remember sitting in one of the wingback chairs in the living room, cross-legged, and I remember having lined paper in my lap, but I don’t really remember the story, although it seems like it was about a circus or something. And I remember thinking maybe I could make some money for my family to have, and my father and mother would be happy.

2. I tried again in my late teens. When I was twenty, I wrote a short story that was supposed to be the beginning of a novel, and sent it to The Atlantic Monthly. I was rejected with a nice note – the ‘good but not for us’ variety, as I recall, though not in those words. I quit writing for a while (to put it mildly) after that (not because of that rejection – it just happened to coincide with a couple of other events).

3. I also started notes for a novel that was to be based (vaguely) on some things that happened when I was in New Orleans one summer. The line (you may have read something close to this on EE’s blog) “I saw myself sitting there, a slender, tender blonde girl, nibbling on my orange slice, chewing on my cherry” – was part of these notes. I never forgot that line. It ran through me every once in a while. I think it was me, telling me that I was gonna write that novel, but it wasn’t time yet. I was still stewing it along inside. Last spring I was looking through some old books, and in one of them (The History of Philosophy - a dog-eared paperback of mine from a long time ago) I found a bookmark with the title of this novel - written across the back of the bookmark. And character names. It just about made me cry, seeing that, and realizing how much time had gone by from then until now.

4. I inhaled fiction from the time I could barely read as a kid until I was out of high school – then I took a long sabbatical – then I started up again in my mid-twenties. I stopped again in my early thirties, didn’t start again until about five years ago, other than mysteries. I’ve never stopped reading those. I didn’t realize until recently – there was a reason for this pattern. I think I’ve read every P. D. James mystery there is – unless she’s written one in the last five years that I’m unaware of. I loved her writing style, and the pace of her unfolding.

5. I'm gonna admit - I'm a fiction snob. (Anyone surprised?)

6. I always read the back of a novel before the rest. Well, I read the back cover, the flap copy, and the first few pages. Then, after I’ve decided I might but the book, I flip to the back and read the end. If I like the end, I buy the book. I have no need for unadulterated suspense with regard to the ending.

7.I am a total nerd. I used to love believing I was gonna read the entire encyclopedia (read the A’s over and over during several ‘new beginnings’ of this goal when I was younger), and I love having a “books one must read in order to be well-read” list.

Anybody around here wanna run with this tag? If so, please have at it.