plotting/plodding/process.

i'm writing a new book. (and running a discount!)

One quote done before the ribbon jammed up, and it’s riddled with typos.

Because I am a serious writer hoping to make swift and steady progress on a book that’s been niggling away at me for more than a year slash my entire life, I have decided that it’s imperative to first fill my “office” pinboard with all of the perfect sentences I’ve underlined in other people’s books and scribbled onto napkins and generally tried to hold onto for this one-day project.

These quotations, I’ve determined, must be printed onto assorted scraps of special paper that I’ve been squirreling away in an obsolete public school academic records folder, which I pilfered from a school supply closet last spring. I am nothing if not efficient and practical and so I have further resolved to type these small strokes of other people’s genius onto said paper scraps using a vintage typewriter. I will then hang them in an artful manner that will inspire maximum creativity and creation.

Unfortunately, the vintage typewriter currently taking up residence in my home is being a bit of an ass. It’s refusing to advance its ribbon and no amount of YouTube video watching or antique manual reading has gotten me closer to figuring out why. I am now have ink-stained fingertips and very sweaty pits.

I have decided to take the obstinate machine for a diagnostic visit to a typewriter repair shop on West 17th Street in Manhattan. This has meant needing to consult my ancestral map of New York City ghosts to confirm that this address is indeed one block over and three blocks up from the Church of Our Lady of Guadalupe—the first Spanish-speaking Catholic parish in the city and where my great grandmother attended regular meetings of the Third Order of St. Francis. Two blocks up and two blocks over is the YWCA where a great great grandmother completed courses in millinery and dressmaking. Maybe it was there that she learned the skills she would use to eventually sew the coverlet, made from what appears to be silk dresses, which was recently bequeathed to me, but that’s another story. Because I can’t squander an opportunity for ghost hunting, I have decided it only makes sense to take a wide circle around the neighborhood to check in on both spots whilst also lugging a fifteen pound typewriter.

Now that I’m thinking about inspiration, I have remembered the gold ring with the shell cameo of the three muses. It belonged to my great great aunt—or maybe her cousin— and I’ve been meaning to take it to a jeweler to see if they can turn it into a pendant. Every project needs a good luck charm.

It’s so warm outside. I need to take a quick walk through the park and let the muses find me among the cherry blossoms and redbuds. I should snake back past the coffee shop that makes that delicious iced white tea. Inspiration flows better with a bit of refreshment.

Or, maybe I’ll just let the oversized ring swirl around my ink-stained finger as I sit at my desk and type my precious sentences into my laptop computer.

What I really need to do is begin.

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It feels somehow sacrilege or uncouth to talk about a book that I haven’t yet written or even sold—like sharing news about a very early pregnancy before really knowing whether it’s viable. Fortunately, I don’t really believe in that stuff. We need, each of us, as much support and encouragement as we can get, even, and especially, if things don’t pan out exactly as we imagine. This new project is a bit of a departure from anything I’ve written before and it’s not the type of book that I can really sell on proposal alone, so I’ll be doing a lot of writing first and hoping to sell later. It all feels risky, and scary, and also, exhilarating.

That said, if you’re a regular reader and have the ability to upgrade to a paid subscription, I’d be so grateful if you’d consider doing so now. I’ll still be writing this newsletter as I work on this new project and it feels less risky to take on that project if I know this one is solidly supported. For the next week I’m running 20% off annual subscriptions to Make / Do! Tell all of your friends and enemies!

PS. The quote above is from Lauren Elkin’s novel Scaffolding, which is v v good. I’m working on a big round up of my favorite novels that heavily feature homes and houses and this one is on the list. (You’ll have to be a paid subscriber to read about the rest!)

PPS. (That’s an affiliate link!)