The Process

As I mentioned previously, I'm in the process of writing a full-length novel. This has been one of my goals in life and I am on my way. I think one of the things worth talking about is the creative process, since it seems everyone must figure out what works (or does not work) for themselves.

For instance, Steven King in his autobio/writing primer "On Writing" says he usually punches out about 4 pages of draft per day as a starter before moving to other projects. Sometimes I can punch out 4 pages with no problem. Other days it feels like I'm rolling a boulder through sand. I haven't reached a magical stage where I can turn on or turn off my writing juices.

So for right now, I'm having to commit to writing and force myself to find time after the day job and after the Little Man has been put to bed. It's not easy. If I find a way to make it easier, I'll be sure to post about it here.

The Big Announcement

I remember reading this old Reader's Digest article about a way to commit to getting something done. Drawn from an old adage about if you wanted to climb a wall that you felt might be too high for you, the solution was to throw your hat over the fence. After that, you had to climb that wall to get your hat back. What they were talking about wasthat the main component of accomplishing anything was commitment.

So - I'm throwing my hat over the fence, folks. I am going to complete writing a novel by the end of the year.

Ever since I was a kid, I wanted to write a book. I don't know why I wanted to do it, I just wanted to. Now is the time for me to make that happen.

I've been working different jobs since I was 8 years old. Paperboy, busboy, working in Dad's landscaping business and Mom's court data entry business. Later on I found that I didn't hate IT as much as I hated those jobs and I thought that this was all I needed. I thought I would be able to do something I enjoyed, which was good because I didn't plan on being a writer.

Well, I was wrong. I have a day job, but I need to do something more. I need to create, I need to write. This 'blog will help chronicle the journey. If anyone would like to a guinea pig for my drafts - please contact me at my email address (daniel.r.haight at gmail dot com).

What is it about rec rooms?

If I thought there was a market, I'd either do a coffee-table book or a documentary on trailer park rec rooms across America. If Wal-Mart is a scourge on America, trailer park rec rooms are doubly so.

I'm not even sure what got me started.

Was at a funeral - the after-party, the we're-not-calling-it-a-wake, wasn't held at a rec room as so many others before had been. I didn't realize before how relieved I was. What is it about rec rooms? Why do they seem to scream 'failure' at me? Was it like visiting a K-Mart at 8:30 on a Thursday night...nobody wanted to be there, nobody was happy. The decor that hadn't been updated since the Carter administration weighs down on you like a ton of bricks.

I just wanted to leave.

So when I look at a rec room and I look at the aged linoleum, the avocado kitchen range and the hanging light fixtures - they leave me unsettled and depressed; I can never say why.

Surfacing...surfacing...

Apologies for the delay in posting - I thought I would stay off the keyboard until I had something to talk about. General weirdness at work makes for mental and emotional exhaustion behind the keys.

I've often thought about what makes it possible to write - I've been writing stuff...nothing publishable, I guess...since I was 11. I don't know why I started but I picked up a Mead 5-subject ringed notebook and just started filling the pages with a story built around a protagonist with the most god-awful name ever: Daytona Titanium.

Sue me, I was 11.

Daytona was a starfighter pilot and I managed to weave story elements into this novel from Star Wars, Star Trek, Always (the Spielberg movie) and whatever else was on my mind at the time. Every couple of pages I'd include a (poorly-drawn) picture of the action in progress. I knew when it was time to wrap it up because I was getting to the yellow-cardboard partition between sections. I kept at it, showing it to other kids and essentially cementing my reputation as the 'talented-but-weird' kid.

I gave up writing for a while due to some poorly-timed advice by my mother; I chucked what amounted to several years of work into the fire one night. I haven't spoken about Daytona or the book since.

In high school, after being inspired once again by some great books I was reading (To Kill a Mockingbird and The Caine Mutiny) I started writing again. One-page essays that I couldn't translate into stories, just long-winded descriptions of strange, folksy characters that might have existed in Maycomb, Alabama in a modern context. I wanted to write a book that touched me as deeply as 'Mockingbird' had.

I started writing for my own blog about 12 years ago - converted that to my own domain site a few years after that and just kept noodling. As of right now, I've only taken the first step off of 'noodling' - I've put out some of my work for other people to read and respond to. Their enthusiasm has been gratifying.

If anything, though, I just wish I had done it sooner.