Yesterday, went off to see Star Trek Into Darkness (or Star Trekkin To Darkness, depending on where you put your space) for a second time because it was at a
nearby cheap seats theater, and because I really liked the film and can’t wait for it to appear in a buyable form. I think it’s really clever Star Trek, which is a relief, and I was surprised to find myself declaring it my favorite Star Trek movie of them all, apart from Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country which is probably unmovable at this point.
(At the concession stand, buying some popcorn, the nice girl behind the counter sold us Star Trek t-shirts, too. I hope they don’t keep offering T-shirts for films because I am a sucker for black t-shirts with things on ’em)
Anyway, it was good I’d already seen the film because it was kind of a wreck. First thirty minutes of the film, the theater lights were up. The sound was too loud (you would wince every time a high-pitched monster would scream) and the picture
wasn’t fitted to the screen, so any captions you needed to read were only a bit there. And then it all went horribly wrong halfway through when the picture vanished…and stayed vanished. People grumbled and came and went. We collected our stuff to go and discovered that the theater bulb had exploded, so we got free tickets for a different show (which makes me happy, in that Pacific Rim is coming to the cheap seats quite soon. AND WILL THEY SELL ME A T-SHIRT WITH GIANT ROBOTS AND MONSTERS ON IT? I HOPE THEY WILL)
So we went to the local mall to walk…only to discover that the mall’s ongoing remodeling meant that — inexplicably — they had brought in cranes and bulldozers and physically demolished half the mall. That was a new one by me. So we walked half a mall after seeing half a movie.
I expected, when we went for dinner, that we would get halfway through our food and the restaurant would catch on fire or something, but the theme failed to continue.
“How’s the writing going?” Oh you know. It goes and it goes. Well, it doesn’t really. Very hard to carve writing space out of the day. Hard doesn’t equal impossible, though. I keep writing notes for this novel in my spare time — I’m calling it FUGUE right now, because it fits, but it’s not very descriptive or interesting so it may change.
I’m fascinated by the note-taking. I keep writing down situations I want to explore somewhere in the novel, and then they lead to more situations and ideas. If THIS
happens, then THIS character would react THUSLY and this would change a later portion of the book LIKE SO…
THe book isn’t outlined or particularly plotted. It’s has a plot but mostly a lot of room to explore a couple of people and the world in which they move, which is all I wanted. I have no idea how long a book this is gonna be. I thought it would be pretty short, practically a long-novella, but the more I explore my notes the more I realize I have to unpack and talk about. The trick is how long I can sustain a very quiet narrative about two people mostly failing to interact overtly before it gets boring. 200,000 words of that would have worked for Proust, but Proust I am not.
I have the first two long scenes full in my head. I know all about them. What happens right after that I actually have no idea, and I’m pleased that I’m not worrying about it at all. I just want to get these two scenes down clearly and then I’ll go from there.
And of course, it’s proving useful that I have BookRiot articles to write and books to read and maybe review. It’s useful to stop and wander off for a bit to kvetch in article form, then come back to the book. I like that a lot.
Right. Off to scribble some notes and then maybe get this scene moving.