Closed

This blog will no longer be updated. I am still working on my novel, but you will just have to wait for the finished product.   You can now follow me here, where I review and critique other people’s finished short stories/novels/memoirs.  Thank you for reading me these last couple months, and enjoy Celebrity Lit Club!

shit! shit! shit!

I have been working on novel #1 for a year now (happy anniversary to me!) I have about six notebooks filled with lovely ideas (over half of which will be in the novel, I may add, yay!) but there’s one snag.

I don’t have a beginning or an end.

It’s so annoying–I have the middle. I can go on about very specific scenes, but I cannot, for the life of me, figure out how to get it started or how to wrap it up. It’s weird. Maybe I subconsciously don’t want to finish it (or start it?) It’s really pissing me off. hmmm…maybe I can be a pretentious writer and be like, “the reason there is no concrete introduction or conclusion is because I want people to jump into the pain my main character is feeling. Yeah. That’s the ticket.” mmm, nah, I wouldn’t be able to defend that statement with a straight face.

booooo. I know I’ll get it figured out. I think I’ve also been too picky–I rejected several endings because they were too happy, too rom-commy (aka could never happen in real life.) and the beginnings…they sounded either really hokey or like the second chapter of a Baby-Sitter’s Club novel, where the narrator would give the backstory of every friggin’ character, even you already knew that Kristy Thomas was the tomboy founder of the BSC and loved to wear turtlenecks and sweatshirts and her mother married a millionaire. aggggggh.

The short story re-writes are also proving to be harder than I thought. A lot of it is mental, I’m not in the same mindset as I was when I wrote them the first time. She Can’t Hit was written during a time of great pain and confusion; The Killing Joke was written a year later, when I was angry with the way the previous year had gone, and Mademoiselle Carly, I was under a deadline, so that added stress.

I also said I wasn’t trying to recreate these stories word for word, so do I need to be in the same mindset? I’m not living in the situation(s) anymore, so now I’m unbiased.I should be able to have a better perspective on addiction, serial killing and falling in mad crazy infatuation with a musician while owning a mint green cafe, right?

It’s ten after two already. Maybe this staying up half the night isn’t helping me accomplish much…

Revisions

I know I said that I was happy my baggage from the past four years was gone with my busted laptop, but there were three stories on there that I actually loved and that I’m considering re-writing:

*She Can’t Hit (originally written 11/05) A girl goes to visit her brother at a drug rehab center where he was once a patient. Now he’s an employee there. While waiting for him, she encounters her best guy friend from freshman year of college, who is a now a patient there.

*The Killing Joke (originally written 10/06-11/06) As a serial killer (who idolizes The Joker) lays dying after committing suicide in front of the woman he loves, he recalls how he came to meet her and her asshole boyfriend that drove him to kill again.

*Mademoiselle Carly (originally written 12/07-1/08) An American expat who is (figuratively) married to her mint green cafe in Paris very quickly falls in love with an American musician who is on an aborted tour with his rock band.

I’m not out to recreate these word for word. I love these stories for various reasons. She Can’t Hit was very therapeutic for me to write. I wrote it during my first semester at Binghamton, when I was dealing with a lot at home and at school (the summary of the story should give you the gist of what was going on.) It helped me sort out my feelings and gave me something to do besides be miserable.

The Killing Joke was originally given to me as a creative writing workshop assignment. The instruction was to pair up with someone, and give each other a character. My partner decided to give me a clown serial killer. I wasn’t happy at first, but once I started writing, I ran with it. Tommy wasn’t a bozo-esq clown, his idol was The Joker, a psychopath who wore a tuxedo to kill. (however, Tommy was smart and realized that a purple tux and a green wig would give him away, so he skipped that part.) He killed for the thrill, and like his idol, went after redhead women with glasses. He fell in love with a girl who should have been his victim–instead, she kept him from killing, at least for a little while. Thinking about it, it’s a metaphor for addiction. Actually, there is a line that references this. “He wasn’t a serial killer–he was merely addicted to killing, the way one is to heroin or shopping.” It is one of my darker works, but I had so much fun with it, especially since the assignment before that was rather…special. But I digress.

Mademoiselle Carly was originally written as a gift for a housemate. There were eight of us living in an awesome house and we had a secret santa where the spending limit was $5. I spent the $5 on a notebook from Urban Outfitters, and got the idea to turn it into a short novel. I used tidbits about Carly to craft the story–her boyfriend, her love of France and French culture, her love of baking, ect. and threw in some of our housemates as supporting characters. She loved it. At first, I liked the story, but I read it again and realized that with some punching up, I could really have something.

The other fun thing about Mademoiselle Carly and She Can’t Hit were the soundtracks. I love crafting soundtracks to my stories, it’s helpful for writing. It helps set the tone of the story, and it’s a nice memento when you finish. The SCH soundtrack is filled with sad/slow tempo songs–Jane Says by Jane’s Addiction (where I got the title…listen carefully), The Weight by The Band, Lullaby by Jack Johnson and Matt Costa, the Jamie Cullum version of Lover, You Should’ve Come Over…I still get sad when I hear these songs. Mlle. Carly was a lot happier, although I find it funny that there are no French songs on the CD–they’re either by British or American artists, like The Monkees, Mike Nesmith, The Puppini Sisters, The Pipettes, Madness…I still love that soundtrack.

Actually, sometimes, I’ll get hooked on one song and play it over and over while writing. This is story is kind of embarrassing because I feel like a stalker, but I’m sure I’m not the only person who has done this.

My guy friend (who, fine, I had a crush on a year earlier, hence why I’m still slightly embarrassed) was in a band that had a MySpace. I was writing a creative response for a Medicine In Literature Class (if you go to Binghamton, take it with Dr. Whittier. She is amazing, she has the best stories and assigns awesome material.) My topic was addiction, and I had to write it from the point of view from the addict. So, I’m stuck on this story when I decide to procrastinate and log on to my friend’s band’s MySpace. I click on a random song, and it was beautiful. I could feel my character relating to this song (I’m not mentioning it only because I don’t think the band would like me suggesting that one of their songs is told from the POV of a heroin addict. I actually heard the story behind the song about a year later, and it was not what I expected at all. But I digress…) I wrote and wrote for about two days straight, with the song on repeat. I think I bumped that song’s play count by at least twenty-five plays, if not more. It was a religious experience, I’ll tell you that much. I bought the album shortly after I finished the story. I loved the album to pieces, but sadly, it was on the busted laptop and the hard copy got lost during a move. I really want to order another copy, but I can’t bring myself to do it. whomp whomp.

I’m still working on my novel. My baby! I’m not giving the summary away yet…I think I’ve given you enough to read for now.

Let’s get to know each other, shall we?

I’m like most college graduates–unemployed and blogging. However, you will not be getting my insight on politics, domesticity, or massive year long projects that involve, say, cooking every recipe from The James Beard Cook Book or being a freegan for a year.  Instead, I will be using this as a website of sorts, because I am a struggling writer. Emphasis on struggling–my whole portfolio was destroyed because of a leaky air conditioner that decided to leak on my desk, into my computer, rendering it unfixable. I’m also an asshole and didn’t bother to back anything up on a separate drive, leaving me with absolutely nothing to show for graduate school or job applications that require clippings. That being said, it’s actually kind of refreshing–all my baggage from the past four years is gone, and I can start anew.

I’ll be providing you with snippets of my work (feedback is welcomed and encouraged!) and posting questions to get me (and you, hopefully!) thinking. While writing is largely an individual thing, it’s always nice to have a little help.

yay! Check back soon!

Love Always,

Katie