Mysterious Artemis

I actually started writing. This is frickin’ fantastic.

This past week I decided to “write a novel” as part of the National Novel Writing Month, aka NaNoWriMo. It was kind of a joke. A lark. A ‘what the hell’ kind of proposition. And now here I am writing the darn thing. I wrote 2104 words last night. I am pretty perplexed and awed by this. I am used to writing short fiction–really short, like poetry. I really didn’t think this was possible.

So now here we are. I have discovered that my need for structure lends itself to mystery novels. Apparently I like starting with atmospheres in the form of locations. (Years ago I dreamed of travel writing…is this why?) My intrepid journaling over the past 15 years has developed into a sophisticated form of introspection and psychological awareness that I can adapt into first person narrative. My obsessive, insatiable need to research topics for years will now have a respectable home, instead of squatting indefinitely in my head and taking up prime real estate. After years of banging my head against the wall and wondering ‘why, how, huh?’ about something until I crack the stubborn nut, I can finally explain to people why I stare off into space all the time. In metaphor! Through dialogue! I am starting to suspect the complex world of fiction is the perfect vehicle for sharing the nuance of what I’ve learned.

Some of the questions I’ve asked myself over the years include:

– How is it possible that a woman with a PhD in nanotechnology would leave her fantastic corporate research position to live on a houseboat and become…an astrologer? [That was a real head scratcher, but now I know.]

– If a forged artwork is close enough to the original that no one can tell for sure if it is fake, does it actually matter? And why? [I would say yes.]

-What’s the deal with free jazz? Why would anyone listen to it, never mind be passionate about it? [I’m still working on this one, though I did make some small headway.]

– How on earth do people write long fiction such as novels? [Apparently they just start actually writing them. Who knew?] Where do the characters come from? Just how real are they to the authors? What does it feel like to live in that head space all the time? Is the process really any different from spiritual folk who create personal relationships with their deities?

Looks like I am about to find out. Wish me luck!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What could you say yes to?


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~