Storming the Inner Palace
Wellington Leg: I think it’s safe to say that we’ve all quit a job in our lifetime, maybe a couple of them. I tried to resign from the first grade a few decades ago but higher authorities made it clear that I was a first grader whether I liked it or not. My favorite things then were small amphibians and dirt: I found these things in plentiful supply and didn’t see the need for continuing education.
That was then. I resigned from being a writer a few weeks ago. It felt good that first morning having this monkey off my back; I felt smart, ten pounds lighter, wittier. I ran down the beach leaping into the air at five yard intervals. No I didn’t. I might have, though, such was my relief.
A few days later I was thinking about a book I started during NaNoWriMo last year, a book that I have three hundred pages of narrative outline, notes, chapters, what have you. I peeked at it. Like a messy bedroom it called for order.
A week after my resignation it dawned on me: I know how to write this book, I know how to get the story out from behind the gauze curtain of doubt. Hmm. Too bad I resigned.
It’s November again, NaNo time. Maybe I’ll just fool around with the manuscript, storm the inner palace and knock the guards unconscious. Over the past few weeks I’ve seen plenty of small amphibians and all kinds of dirt, red dirt, baby, from the volcano. What fresh hell is this?
November 17th, 2007 at 9:38 pm
“Storming the Inner Palace” is a killer name for a self-help book.