writing by chance
This morning, I looked at my Virgin file. Due to untimely shutdown, my last scene and most of the next-of-the-last scene were gone. I looked at the single sentence hanging, and thought, yes, this is the whole scene, 12 words. That’s it. There’s everything I need for this scene.
Then, during the day, I received two e-mails from people whom I usually try to forget (the way Bee forgets), and I wrote to both of them, ending the letters with thanks for contacting me / thanks for not forgetting me. And I meant it.
Then, as I was eating dinner, a video for REM “Everybody hurts” came up, and instantly, I recognized that feeling, I recognized that eerie, detached sorrow.
I knew what Virgin is about.
It’s not about a society with unreasonable (or all-too-reasonable) rules, it isn’t about silently destroying you because you’re different.
It’s about love, and about marriage, and the day-to-day struggle of life as it is.
The funny thing is that my husband knew it long before as I did. He looked at an early plot draft, and he said, now where did you get that idea? I grinned and said, that’s just a twist, I don’t know what it means.
Right then, I wasn’t ready to acknowledge what my novel was about.
I am not sure I am ready for that now.
