The Year Begins
I was about to trash my entire MS, but decided to correlate all the pages and i have 75 000 words so i thought … well maybe i will just keep rewriting. i printed out the already-rewritten 30 and it was ok, not oh mi fuk awesome but ok.
what i am going to do now is rewrite as if i don’t care. because the second book thing-thing has a lot of care invested. and i am not usually a person who cares what other people think. this has got me in trouble and this has got me far. i don’t think writers can care. i think it drives you mad. wondering and worrying. and isn’t the act of writing so brave already that to care would be to miss the point of writing.
This afternoon i am meeting with Frederik and that in itself is more romantic than ever publishing. i don’t have romantic intentions towards my editor even if he does give the best hugs ever, but i have a serious case of writer’s romance when it comes to meeting my soon to be [insert v smart title here] at a restaurant and being dined. this is the idea i had in my head. the act of writing and the act of not caring is the compulsion. i am sure all of us writers have hundreds and thousands of words within our computers that are practise rounds and are as important as the words that are read by other people.
Helen – i am going to get all messy again – i have been so meticulous up until now and i am tired of it. i want to throw a whole bunch of love and gore and laughter and weight onto a page. i am going to let Desai keep to the breathy work and am heading for regte South African violence, madness and inappropriate affairs/ sex (with apologies to my parents).
I was going to start studying properly this year but i can’t seem to find a degree that really combines what i want to know. unfortunately these answers are often in creative writing courses and i have a strong aversion to anyone telling me how to write. i have my own inner voice (read: haranguer).
I had a holiday this year that was silly and enlightening. did u know that South Africa is rather huge? that there are 1000s of kilometres between cities. i had forgotten and set out in my car to sommer drive around. my parents used to put me in the back seat of the old Merc (wasn;t old then) and drive me around to pacify me. i like the feeling of the road, it has a gravity and i like going forward and i love South Africa to obsession. but crike (my 2009 word for fuck) i drove 4500 kms in under 3 weeks. not always just me but often just me.
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=96470&l=4aefa&id=724576110
this was elandsbaai. i/we also went to groot brak, east london, de hel – with obv thanks to andre brink for the inspiration, cape town a few times and through the karoo. i was exhausted when i got home. but i am so happy to be back. joburg is insanely beautiful. on my first day back there was a thunderstorm that turned the light bright bright bright yellow. then candy floss pink. then 2 rainbows. i want cape town and i to be friends but i find her so heavy. i can’t spend too much time with her. i think she is awesome for creativity but i think that creativity is weighty and i am still addicted to the insane (electric storms) energy of Joburg.i am just going to have to keep writing about joburg. it is my only home.
speaking of homes (while i am warbling away) i am going to see my mom, brother and uncle’s home this year. Antigua is bloody expensive and bloody far so i am going for a whole month and i can really experience their life. here’s part of Patsy’s email from this morning:
“giorgio my carpenter and i go down in the landrover, i believe the road is hell after omar. the swell just wont go down and every suggestion to change the venue to something easier to deal with has been ignored. on set,
there is a huge language gap [Italian] and the crew dont communicate with us – because they cant i suppose, so those who can speak english ask all of us for the same thing as the director plows on in an unplanned and unnegotiated area. the americans are getting very emotional, and mary j blighe is freeezing to death in a leotard”.
i am not surprised that she can’t spell blige but it all sounds rather fab doesn’t it. often i ask my mom to write but she never sits down to do it.
Thanks for listening to my Morning Meanderings. I am off to rewriting land.
x
