11.03.2013

Speedbumps

It's November 3rd.  2013.  Sunday.  Or, Day 3 of NaNoWriMo.  I'm doing it again.  I've been staring at a blank screen for a couple of hours now and trying to peel my inner critic from my keyboard.  I know crap when I read it and I know NaNo is all about writing crap and getting it out on paper so you'll have something to work with, but I just can't do it.  I have no problem writing crap later once I get into the swing of it.  It's just the initial entry.  The Official Page One NaNo2013.  Just like any other novel you pick up off the shelf, the first line sets the stage for the rest of the book.  It's a mental speedbump.  For instance, the following first lines:

It was 7 minutes after midnight.  (the curious incident of the dog in the night-time by Mark Haddon)  Short, sweet.  Easy Peasy.  I'd read on to see what's going on at 12:08.

No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and kaydids are supposed, by some, to dream.  (The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson)  I can't wait to get into this story.  Of course, I've already read it twice but still...  What madness awaits.

The fat one, the radish Torez, he calls me Camel because I am Persian and because I can bear this August sun longer than the Chinese and the Panamanians and even the little Vietnamese, Tran. (House of Sand and Fog by Andre Dubus III)  It was a national book award finalist.  An Oprah's Book Club book.  It was made into a film.  In other words, a pretty big deal.  I couldn't finish it.  I tried.  The opening line killed it for me. Especially since the rest of the book was very much the same.  Maybe it was the form.  Maybe because it didn't hint at any exciting action.  I don't know.  That opening line was a massive speedbump.

So, for NaNoWriMo, while I give myself permission to write willy-nilly for 30 days regardless of the quality, I find I can't progress with any momentum unless I hook myself with a halfway decent first line.
The husband has built a nifty fire outside and I've got the makings of a white russian or a nice bottle of wine.  I think I'll slink away from the screen for a bit.  Have a drink.  Let my mind wander.  Enjoy the golden light of this lovely November afternoon.  It'll come to me.  It's just a speedbump.