No, I haven’t been working on the suicide novel, but thank you for not asking.
Basically, everything is on hold because I was getting off track, again.
As I see it, the problem was, as always, that I was more concerned with the solution than the cause and effect of the situation.
In this novel, I wanted to explore what nearly occurred to me a year ago when I was suffering so badly from depression. I devised a plan to commit a fake suicide as a means of “terminating” my current life and starting life anew somewhere else. Sort of like killing yourself, but not dying. After all, what is life, but a series of interrelated existences with other people? Change the people you relate to, change your life.
It seemed like a good idea at the time. Unfortunately, I was about as sane as a rubber nail and everything that could go wrong with my plan did, which seems to be the case with plans devised by crazy people.
When I started writing the novel the main character, Arne Karlsson, was developed to be as far from me as I could get, but he ended up being a lot closer than I expected. Also, as I worked out the narrative, Arne came into some situations where I was unwilling to explore fully and simply stepped over them as if they were freshly dropped cow shit.
Now, my new work situation is not conducive to writing as I’ve been used to. In my former employment, I had a lot of time to write and, at the time, had time available on weekends to transcribe my handwritten material into the computer. Now, I have little time at work to write and even less time at home. Weekends are busily wasted on everything other than what I should be doing.
So, the book sits in the back of my mind simmering on low heat as I get up enough courage to delve into the dark reaches of my mind. Arne Karlsson needs to do the same thing, but in Arne’s case there is a hidden secret that is trying to get out. A little childhood memory so significant to his very being that it is unwilling to linger in forgotten corners of his mind anymore. A little memory devised by a devious author who once enjoyed pushing characters to the limit of their being as a means of exploring the human life experience.
Luckily, I’m still in the development stages of this novel and have the time to dilly-dally for a little while yet; not a long while, just long enough to reconfigure the time structure of my life.
Basically, everything is on hold because I was getting off track, again.
As I see it, the problem was, as always, that I was more concerned with the solution than the cause and effect of the situation.
In this novel, I wanted to explore what nearly occurred to me a year ago when I was suffering so badly from depression. I devised a plan to commit a fake suicide as a means of “terminating” my current life and starting life anew somewhere else. Sort of like killing yourself, but not dying. After all, what is life, but a series of interrelated existences with other people? Change the people you relate to, change your life.
It seemed like a good idea at the time. Unfortunately, I was about as sane as a rubber nail and everything that could go wrong with my plan did, which seems to be the case with plans devised by crazy people.
When I started writing the novel the main character, Arne Karlsson, was developed to be as far from me as I could get, but he ended up being a lot closer than I expected. Also, as I worked out the narrative, Arne came into some situations where I was unwilling to explore fully and simply stepped over them as if they were freshly dropped cow shit.
Now, my new work situation is not conducive to writing as I’ve been used to. In my former employment, I had a lot of time to write and, at the time, had time available on weekends to transcribe my handwritten material into the computer. Now, I have little time at work to write and even less time at home. Weekends are busily wasted on everything other than what I should be doing.
So, the book sits in the back of my mind simmering on low heat as I get up enough courage to delve into the dark reaches of my mind. Arne Karlsson needs to do the same thing, but in Arne’s case there is a hidden secret that is trying to get out. A little childhood memory so significant to his very being that it is unwilling to linger in forgotten corners of his mind anymore. A little memory devised by a devious author who once enjoyed pushing characters to the limit of their being as a means of exploring the human life experience.
Luckily, I’m still in the development stages of this novel and have the time to dilly-dally for a little while yet; not a long while, just long enough to reconfigure the time structure of my life.
posted by Carl Holiday at
6:48 PM
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