How I (unexpectedly) Spent My Summer Vacation
An idea for a novel came upon / me.
Whoosh.
Two words.
The next night I dreamed the title.
Five words.
I didn’t see any connection
between the title
and the idea.
I wrote on paper with 3 holes / long-hand / daily, and typed those pages.
No matter the words – I simply transcribed.
If I heard it in my head I wrote it.
No argument.
72 days later I had a first draft. And editorial notes for each segment.
I stapled each batch and stacked them on top of a cold radiator.
The typed pages are in the computer.
I emailed them to myself daily.
I didn’t edit the material
or refashion it.
I treated it like poetry
with a germination period,
alone in the dark.
Just allow it / to arrive
from surprise destinations.
It’s in the dark now.
Whoosh.
Out of nowhere / it never failed
to arrive.
Like arriving from darkness.
A novelist told me the first draft
is the most difficult part
of the process.
This didn’t feel difficult.
Perhaps laborious.
I hope this is a good sign.
A sign in the dark.
Follow darkness
until the sign
arrives.
Whoosh.
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