Ok, I’m off my high from yesterday. Today I began reading the second half of chapter one and oooh, I found some problems. Initially, I was disappointed because a solution did not jump into my head. But then I remembered what I tell my students at community college when they peer review a classmate’s essay rough draft: Pretend its a puzzle and you’re playing around with solving it. So, I’m trusting that once I read the material again tomorrow in a more stable environment –I was sitting at a picnic table on my property in the Sierra foothills where all the very tiny black bugs of assorted shapes seemed to think that my neck was a desired destination–some possibilities will emerge.
I do have a good feeling about the whole thing. I want the book to be absolutely stunning, so I’m willing to do whatever. Most importantly right now though, I need to trust that the material–stories about my childhood at the Jersey shore and my research into surgery for pyloric stenosis–is together in Chapter One for a reason. I want the material to flow as if in a dream. Sure, logically maybe the puzzle pieces don’t fit, but on a much deeper level, I know they do. Who is it who said that powerful fiction (in this case, creative non-fiction) is a like a continuous dream? I want the story to move slowly and deeply like an underwater current. More tomorrow…..