Proust’s Playlist, draft bit the naught, for Sunday Snippets


Hi, everyone,

I’ve missed visiting everyone’s blogs the last two weeks, and for this I do apologize. While it’s unlikely that anyone repeatedly checked their comments sections for my thoughts, I did say that I would provide them, and I did not – so, I apologize for not doing what I said I would do.

I also do not have new fiction to contribute this week. In fact, the posts from the past two weeks were written and scheduled several weeks ahead of time, as I tried to keep in front of circumstances and maintain appearances, so to speak. But, I cannot.

I believe that I am not writing a novel that many people want to read. As several have kindly pointed out, there isn’t a ton of “action.” I’ve been offered much helpful criticism,  but I’ve also been given many comments that – while meant to be “change direction” signs – actually indicate to me that I am on the way to creating the kind of novel that *I* wish to write.

Admittedly, these are snippets of a first draft, often paragraphs that have merely been spell-checked (sometimes not) and not looked at again. They are rough and need editing. But, I wish to tell a story about the evolution of one person’s heart and mind through the playing of a selection of music during one night. I wish to examine the triggers, the climax and resolution, and the isolation of the event, of the agony of emotional revival after complete dissociation.

I don’t want lots of characters or busy-ness or a fast moving activity-based plot line.

I want to describe the process of returning to a feeling heart after years of traumatic isolation and fear and honest-to-God fight-for-your-life existence, a process inspired and prodded by the playing of music.

The sensations of confusion, loneliness, idleness, and anxiety that the readers describe they feel (and dislike) are *exactly* what I want them to feel.

Like I said, this may not be the novel you want to read. But, it’s the one I am going to write. No doubt, it can be tighter and less passive-voice and so on — good useful comments, all. But fundamentally, my story won’t work as 250 word sound bytes, and it’s not a short adrenaline filled read.

If Proust could write a begillion words about his memories inspired by a cookie, the fact that his name is in m title should be a clue about what the reader is in for.

I do not write for fame or sales. It’s likely there won’t be lots of readers, and even fewer who “like” my book. That’s okay. You don’t have to like it. But, I can’t live with changing what it is just to make it more accessible to more people.

Which is a very long way of saying this: I think that asking for reviews and comments of my draft bits in this format does none of us justice, and I am wasting people’s time and thoughtfulness by participating in this group. I hope to continue to follow everyone’s stories as they progress, but I will withdraw mine, at least for now.

Thank you so much for the advice you’ve offered. Each of you has kindly given me lots to think about and consider, and I am grateful for your time and attention.

Warmly,

Shannon

Please visit the sites of other Sunday Snippets collaborators:

http://caitlinsternwrites.wordpress.com/

http://ileandrayoung.com

http://wyrmflight.wordpress.com/

http://www.mandyevebarnett.com

http://womanbitesdog.wordpress.com/

http://jennykellerford.wordpress.com

http://jennifermeaton.com/

http://richardleonard.wordpress.com

http://jordannaeast.com

http://letscutthecrap.wordpress.com

http://writerscrash.blogspot.com

http://wehrismypen.wordpress.com

http://itsjennythewren.wordpress.com

**************************

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About Shannon Blue Christensen

Storyteller. Author. Editor. Literary Critic. Director. Teacher. Knitter. nascent Musician. Student. Operations and Quality. Marketing. Historian. Lear's Fool. View all posts by Shannon Blue Christensen

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