David Thayer

Few things are more liberating than writing a novel. At the same though few things are as constraining. Rules must be followed. Form must follow function; Gott im Himmel you’re building the Ultimate Reading Machine, smooth, fast, nice to look at, familiar yet different, not no much pushing the envelope as licking it. So many masters to serve with only the edge of the precipice as your guide.

This is my own NaNo moment. And the blog started it. Puzzled over Romanian spam I searched my own archives which is a lot like cleaning out the closet only to find a lurking Romanian in amongst the tweed jackets and fashion gaffes of yesteryear. I found the fragmentary remains of a novel I’d started, more than started, half completed, like one of those freeway overpasses going nowhere. What better time than now to finish?

And so I plan to finish The Black Forest by November 30. If I fail to complete on budget and on time I will clean my closet, in earnest this time, and get rid of the funny jacket and empty my briefcase as well. This will make a better writer. Why didn’t I think of this sooner?

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