September 9, 2011

I think I have a novel pent up inside me.

However, haven't had the time to quit life and write like I'd like. 

I see it as the first person narrative of a marriage, wracked (wrecked?) by an affair.  I'm interested in exploring passion and heartache and how those two things so often come hand in hand.  I'd like it to jump through time so that you're reading excerpts of the falling in love process interspersed with pain. Here's a little:

I don’t realize exactly when it happens but I start to see you everywhere.  You are in the books I read, first in the interesting thoughts and phrasings that I know your writer’s mind would connect with.  I resist the urge to email you, chat you, text you, call you constantly with quoted passages.  I buy you a book, the first that makes me think of you so overwhelmingly that I am called by some primal urge to purchase it, wrap it. 

(I put more thought than is reasonable into how to present it to you, settling on the wrapping paper supplied gratis at the bookstore so I don’t seem overwrought but then go and purchase a lovely, thick grosgrain ribbon that I hope effectively communicates both your insistence upon quality and your masculine nature, and also my designer’s mind.)  You seem pleased but you never mention it again and I feel shy and ridiculous for putting myself so far out on a limb of my own construction.  It’s a gesture I don’t repeat, even after we are intimate. 

Then, I see you in the characters that inhabit my fiction. 

Then, you recommend books to me-first you mention then, then you lend me some of your favorite tomes and I am almost unable to crack them for the weightiness I imagine they bring to me.  To us.  I hear your voice when I read them-silly fiction to entertain me, books in religion and philosophy that feel like they’re long lost friends and finally, a book of your favorite poetry.  Your friends are thinkers and writers, too, so you are mentioned here and there in what I read and the first glance of your name transmits a golden hot jolt throughout my veins.  My heart’s thudding returns to normal, but I start devouring the missives with a greater urgency hoping for another interaction with you, as seen by someone else.


  1. This seems really touching and personal. I'd be curious to see the context of this, or how you are going to include parts like this is a bigger piece. You are great at constructing sentences btw.

  2. Very emotive writing that has honest touches of transparency laced throughout. I've enjoyed your non-fiction pieces and witticism very much. It'll be rewarding to see this morph and grow as you begin to fit this into the formal elements of story.