As we know I accidentally began writing a novel a couple of
weeks ago. I got bored one day and began
noodling around with a few opening sentences and now I’m in the middle of
chapter twelve with no end in sight. I
hadn’t expected that to happen.
It’s a hard boiled mystery novel. Make of that what you will. In defiance of all popular wisdom I am
writing in a genre that I very seldom read and . . . again in defiance of
popular wisdom, doing a pretty good job of it in the process.
There have been some interesting twists and turns along the
way. My protagonist was innocent but was
nonetheless being tracked by the police for a murder of one of their own. During the process of trying to clear his
name, however, he did commit a murder, surprising him and me, and – to be fair
about it – the man that he murdered.
What I enjoyed about the writing of the scene, however, was
that I still managed to keep him likeable even though he cut another man’s
throat with as much dispassion as a professional butcher taking care of his ten
thousandth beef carcass.
Anyway I am still following the time honored process in the
telling of these genre books of relentlessly keeping my protagonist in deep
trouble and in a state of perpetual confusion.
As soon as he solves one connective mystery I slap him in the face with
another one.
Currently he is negotiating for information from a source
that could – and just might – squash him like a bug. We shall see if the protagonist is willing to
pay the price demanded for the information he needs. I don’t know the answer to that myself at the
moment. I guess we will make that
decision together.
So the writing process is working out this time around – to my
total surprise – and I am still producing chapters with ease . . . but don’t
ask me why, because I don’t have that answer.
Also, no more than I did in my previous updates, I have no idea if I
will manage to finish this or not.
I’ll leave you with the words of the first man ever to try
and milk a crocodile, “So far so g----“