The Birth of a book

So today I was sitting in class as my students listened to "The Birds" and I began working on my novel, tweaking, looking, etc and just hit a vein and before I knew there were pages everywhere. What a rush! I imagine I'll hate it all tomorrow and rip it up, but for tonight I am content to bask in the purge of words.

I wrote my first stories in second grade I think, no wait, first. It was about George and Martha. Those two hippos from James Marshall. I met him, actually. He was really neat. Or a first graders idea of really neat. Then in second grade I wrote a story about Peter Rabbit, Beatrix Potters' playmate. I didn't really write much like that again until I was in middle school. Then the stuff was pouring out of me.

I remember in 10th grade working on a story and two of my friends would get to gym class early every morning so they could read the next bit. That's also the year I started to work on my novel. I wrote everyday, all the time. I had over 100 hand written pages (front and back single spaced!) Several of my class mates commented that I was a freak. Well, they tended to call me that anyway, but one boy (and if I get this novel published I think I will dedicate it to him...) turned around, looked at me and said, you wrote all that? I said, rather defensively, yeah. He smiled and said cool. We were never really close friends, and we never really hung out. When I saw him at the reunion almost two years ago now, I thanked him, but he didn't remember. But I kept writing.

In college I wrote a lot. Not on the novel, but a lot. Then as I started really working on my English degree and my masters, the writing kind of dried up. Well sort of. I wrote a lot of poetry in grad school, but it was all that love-angst kind of stuff. It was also all very religious, except for the one about the toilet in love with the sink. That one I may get published someday too. It's called a "Water Closet Romance."

Then a couple years ago I got this idea to work on the novel again. I felt like I couldn't go on to any other big projects until this one was completed. Like having a fifteen year old fetus still dragging around. So I keep trying. I think I actually have the plan all worked out and a decent beginning. Maybe if today was an indication. This baby is ready to be born. I may not ever show it to anyone, but it will be completed. I think it's time.