Because I do not write with outlines, I never know—I am eternally anxious—whether or not the book I am currently writing will come whole. I don't trust myself until I'm three or four scenes shy of first-draft done, and unless those scenes are fully (in my mind) throbbing. Not written yet, but seen and smelled.
I am this morning three or four scenes shy of finishing a book that has been with me for ten years, more. That was born in the wake of many travels to Seville and of one particular expedition to the cortijo of Count Leopoldo Sainz de la Maza, one of Spain's greatest bull breeders. He was one of the most courtly men I ever met—tall and blue-eyed and gracious—and I have imagined him and his 7,500-acre landscape into this story of mine. I have rearranged his house (which in real life was hung with the photographs of him together with all the most famous people of the day, and which was called Arenales). I have peopled it with a young woman, an old cook, the ghosts of the Spanish Civil War, and a band of gypsies.
Yesterday afternoon I tasted wedding cake with a dear soon-to-be-married friend, then came home and could not touch this book. I was afraid and stalled and doomed, I was sure. I could not imagine it forward. This morning I woke feeling heartbroken—not with fear, but with the knowing that I can indeed finish this book, and that I will. That soon this story won't be needing me anymore. It will come into its own.
I have real work to do (for my corporate clients). I have a garden to stir to life. I have a friend getting married and another healing from long sickness and many more who wish I'd quit closing myself in here, at my desk.
I have blogs to write that aren't about me.
I have a Sony digital aching for a walk.
I have been obsessed with this novel, as I am obsessed with all novels. Sometimes it's the only way to see a big dream through. After this, there will be the memory of writing. There will be me living forward, in present time.
I have a lot of work to do for my corporate clients too. I am in the process of writing some scripts for product videos for John Deere tractors. Doesn't that sound fun?
So glad the Seville novel is nearing completion.
Being lost in our work creates words, notes, lyrics, paragraphs, chapters, symphonies, movies, etc. that shine and touch the lives of many....but we need to be lost in our work to get to find the end of our "lostness" and share what we have held so dear.pipabe
I have complete confidence that you will either finish this book or be able to be content with leaving it unfinished, at least for now.
I'm sure you'll manage to do everything you need to.
I find the ending of each draft difficult, more so as it gets closer to being the last one. And then it takes a little while to adjust outward to other things. But congratulations are in order for getting to where you are.
They always say it will work out in the end. But, it always does. And it will, for you, this time.
I'm glad to hear that your novel is close to done. Keep working, Beth.
I learn so much from every one of your posts, Beth.
And from the things you do. And create.
Thank you for every bit of it.
XO
A.
I hope you can enjoy these last moments in Seville. Don't fret the obsession, live in it and smile with the beauty of it.
The work that you put into this novel is amazing. I've enjoyed reading about it as you write away. And I'm more looking forward to the possibility that I might be able to read it someday.
Oh Beth, I know it must be hard to write 'The End' to your novel of Seville, a place that so obviously holds a special magic for you, but for us - your readers - please do so when you feel able because we wait anxiously to hold it in our hands and to become absorbed in your story.
How interesting that you don't outline...I'm going to have to interview you myself sometime to find out all this good stuff!