Writer Sketchbook

Crumple it up and throw it in the trash. Now I’m thinking Sci-Fi is NOT the way to go. I had this whole idea about “aliens are just humans from the future,” but it’s grating me. I need to write about something I like to read. Honestly, the closest thing I’ve ever read that is pure Sci-Fi is probably Jurassic Park, and I hated it. I read it a while back, but still, I remember getting lost in the technical terms, and really scratching my head as to why all the fake data was necessary. I tried Sci-Fi again, more recently with The Martian. Again I was bogged down by all the phony details. So back to square one-- looking for ideas again.

So… If you want to write a book, you obviously have to be very interested in the subject. I’ve “completed” three unpublished novels so far. One’s about an actor who goes to Hollywood (my dream at one time). One’s about a little girl with magic flying wings (my daughter’s dream at one time). And one’s about a boy growing up (aka, me). There was another idea I wrote tens of thousands of words on, about a guy who discovers a secret in his elderly dad’s demented mumblings (perhaps me in the future). Yes, those topics mostly revolved around me. I guess I do like me after all. I haven’t written about my son yet, or my wife, although they have appeared in some form, in all of my projects. Honestly the aliens idea was inspired by the made-up stories I tell my son, and if I wrote about my wife, she'd kill me, haha.

Last time, I had a hard time thinking of a theme, so instead I chose a moment. My latest novel focused on a very specific time: one busy month in a coming-of-age summer. Maybe I could write about my brief stay in California, and the great friends I made, and all the shenanigans we pulled. However, I’ve learned that retrospective memoir-based fiction sells like crap. The genre saturates the slush pile. Everybody writes one of those ax-grinders, and getting picked is like finding a needle in a haystack of shit.

I’ve considered historical fiction. There’s an idea about a murder at Breakheart Reservation, a park in MA, I’ve visited several times. Back in 1900 a caretaker murdered the other caretaker, chopped him up, and threw him in a pond. The trial was well documented. Some fresh details-- the killer’s family was shunned after a cousin ratted him out-- ratted out a vicious murderer! There was also a woman in the mix, and maybe a love triangle. But the major motivation was money. The victim hid money from the killer, supposedly to keep him from buying booze and getting hammered. So there’s love, betrayal, money, alcoholism, and more-- maybe even a touch of supernatural. Get this-- the final twist came when the next caretaker was hired on to take the job, and he mysteriously vanished into thin air. Breakheart still has a creepy vibe. Several more deaths have happened there over the years.

Maybe that’s a decent idea,right? But where does it go from there? Writing is like an artist’s sketchbook. There are so many choices. You finally decide that you want to draw a flower. Fine. What kind? Where is the flower? Cut on a table in a vase, climbing up between the cracks in the sidewalk, or growing free in the woods surrounded by baby bunnies? Take the Breakheart idea. Do I leave the murder all true, and research the hell out of it? Do I take the idea and move it into modern times. Is it a mystery or do we already know, and then watch a detective figure it out. Who is telling the story? How does this story reflect on modern society... aka... Why should anyone give a shit? Many questions folks, many, many questions. Crumple it up, and grab more paper-- there's plenty.