So, that novel I was writing? The one that’s been in the works for years? The one that started in real time…then got completely deleted (ugh)…then, was placed in a sci-fi context…which made me want to get devoured by a sandworm?
It’s been a frustrating road trying to get this ridiculous novel done, only to realize maybe it shouldn’t be a novel. Eureka! It dawned on me, recently (because sometimes it just takes a minute), that I’m struggling with the novel because, while I fully enjoy reading the art form, I don’t enjoy creating it.
I really do enjoy creating shorter written art forms. Moments. Snapshots. Poetry has been my go-to. But…big revelation, here…plays are also perfect for this kind of pursuit. I love writing. I love theater. Chocolate and peanut butter!
We’ll see what comes of it. Act I, Scene 1 is drafted. And it was not what I had planned at all. Ha! I have no idea how this is going to turn out, but I’m having a lot more fun with it.
The premise: Maggie Fisher is convicted for killing her husband and his lover – a crime of passion in a blind rage. After serving her 40-year sentence, she is released and placed by her distant and dismissive brother in a house…with no windows…outside a small town in northern Minnesota. She is resigned and, seemingly, at peace to continue her extended sentence in a space that is at least somewhat better than her prison cell. Her bucolic confinement is disrupted by a curious teenage boy, who’s world is falling apart and has him heading toward self-destruction.
The inspiration came from a house with no windows – for real! – in Hubbard, MN. I believe windows were finally added. But, when I was student teaching in Park Rapids, it was windowless and we drove by it all the time. This was my senior year of college – 1996. It’s haunted me ever since: what would bring someone to live (and there were people who lived there) in a house without windows?
a tilting of air 