After a month's work on the book announced in my previous post, I've written my way through two distinct conceptions before finally arriving at a third that's good enough to take all the way to completion. First, I began the book as the digressive travel narrative vaguely outlined in the post below, but after about 25 pages it
became a creature of tangents without a center. That's not necessarily a bad
thing, but it is in this case. I was trying to put everything into the book and
succeeded only in drowning the narrative in details and digressions, factual and fictional. So I started over, this time
writing a more narrowly focused nonfiction travel book, less Sebald and more Paul Theroux. But it wasn't long before this book
went completely, manically fictional in a gonzo Hunter Thompson kind of way.
Again, not necessarily a bad thing, but not the book I want to write at this time. The swerve
toward fiction in this (and the first) false starts, however, showed me what
this book really wants to be: a novel. And that's what it is now. The third
conception, of which I am now on page 40 of the rough draft (written in my nearly microscopic, often illegible hand on that quasi-Luddite cliche of cliches, the yellow legal pad), is the story
of a man named Steiner, a chemical engineer working for an oil company in the Midwest, who, nine months after the deaths of his wife and twin
daughters in a car crash, takes a trip into the west for reasons he does
not completely understand. The
novel is about what happens to Steiner after the Tragedy (as he thinks of it), after his personal and professional lives suddenly crash down around him. I'm
giving him my route and many of my experiences--Steinerized, seen from the
perspective of a smart, shy, geeky, middle-aged engineer who is suffering
intensely and who is also that rare thing in literature, a genuinely and complexly good
man.
That's where the thing stands today. And that's probably all I'll be saying about it until the rough draft is completed. My new working title: Steiner's Journey.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
I don't know how else to contact you. Your list of top novels is scary close to mine. I'd add Dog Years, Berlin-Alexanderplatz, and The Clown, and, of course, Madame Bovary.
Post a Comment