BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

It came screaming into the world with a -30-, Fin, The End, insert your favorite editorial mark here because some of the symbols don’t seem to want to show up in the blog, tagged on its rear, yesterday afternoon, right about 5:00 PM…

Yeah, that’s right. The latest manuscript is finished, submitted, and all that good stuff. Sent off to “college” with only a virtual suitcase and class schedule (read: date with an editor) as I waved goodbye from behind the keyboard.

One of my friends asked me what it is like to finish a manuscript– Elation, Relief, Joy, Sadness, what? So, I thought I would share the answer here, hence the title of the blog…

Uh-huh…Writing a manuscript for a book, especially one that is contracted and has a deadline, is a lot like giving “intellectual birth.” No, not birthing a really smart kid (although, the Evil One and I managed to do that somehow– Our daughter is brilliant and will probably take over the world by the time she’s thirty, but I’ll brag on her later)… What I mean is, by the time you get to the end of a 100K word manuscript, you are spent. Worn out. Ready to just collapse.

For example, I jump out of bed at 5:15-5:30 every morning. You can almost set your watch by me. Today…Not so much. My feet finally hit the floor around 8:00, and it’s not like I stayed up late celebrating or anything. My celebration took the form of the wife and kid taking me around the corner to the new Mexican place for dinner (so I didn’t have to cook)… That was nice. It was excellent. All was good. But, I went to bed at my regular hour. I was just plain exhausted…

Some may wonder how you can possibly be exhausted by sitting on your ass behind a keyboard and typing for hours on end. Well, I don’t just sit. I get up to go to the bathroom and refill my coffee or tea… (Actually, I do make sure to get activity in, but that’s a different story)…

The real deal is the exhaustion you experience is purely mental fatigue.

(Well, there is the stiffness from sitting in one position, hunching over some research looking up something, the itchy eyes from staring at the screen, the cramps in your hands from typing all day… but this blog is about the mental stuff…)

Remember, when you are writing you are pretty much living with this set of characters. I know that may sound insane, but trust me, that is how it works. You are walking around in a daze for the 4 to 6 months it takes you to tap out the story on your keyboard, and you have a whole host of folks bopping about in your head. Whispering in your ear. Telling you how THEY would do something that you are doing. Letting you know THEY would never eat a Braunschweiger sandwich because it’s yucky… Well, you get the picture.

These imaginary characters become a part of your family, and for a period of time, a good portion of your life. You can’t do anything without thinking, “How would XX respond to this?”… “What would YY do if she was in this situation?”…And, more often than not, they tell you in no uncertain terms. Of course, you are the only one who hears them and that makes you look like you are talking to yourself…So, you try to avoid doing so in public lest the men in white coats come to take you away… The point is, they are with you night and day. You cannot get away from them, and if you try, they chase you down and make your life a nightmare. Why? Because you are supposed to be paying attention to them while they tell their story, and if you ignore them they get pissed.

So, what it comes down to is the feeling when that -30- goes at the end of that last page…

Well, it’s all of them. You run through them just like you would the stages of grief….You feel accomplished, you are elated, you are ecstatic. You are ready for these folks to go back in their box and leave you alone for a while. Then you get worried. Things happened to them in this story. Are they handling it okay? Are they going to make it through without counseling? Are YOU going to make it through without counseling?… Then you are sad…. It’s like houseguests who have been staying with you forever who finally leave. You think you are happy they are gone, then you realize you have grown so accustomed to having them around that you miss them terribly and want them to come back…

So, name an emotion, I’ve probably felt it, or will over the next couple of days… That’s why I warned you in the last blog my brain would be like oatmeal for a while…

It’s a rollercoaster…And, I’m on it right now.

But, you know what? That’s okay… Because, last night I got to sit and have a normal conversation with my wife– That means not once did I stare off into space wondering how Rowan, Felicity, or any of the other characters would respond to the innocuous things being said.

Of course, in a couple of months when I start the next manuscript, I am sure they will be happy to fill me in on what they thought…They always do.

More to come…

Murv

With the sound of a Basset Hound having its tail pulled really hard.

Okay, not literally. Please allow me to explain…

You see, I cannot carry a tune in a bucket. Even if you put a bead of silicone sealant around the top then slap the lid on. It’s just not one of my talents. I will find a way to spill that bucket full of tune all over the ground within the first two notes of any song.

Of course, this does not keep me from appreciating music, listening to music, and yes, even singing. In the shower. In the car. When listening to the radio at home… Or, even if I just feel like breaking into song. It’s one of those things. We all do it at one time or another. The mood strikes us and out come the notes, off-key, on-key, howling, squeaking, rasping, whatever. It’s just a fact of life.

So… I spent this past weekend in Newark, Ohio at Violet Flame Gifts with Dorothy Morrison, doing that booksigning thing, workshops, etc. Heather (the owner) runs a great shop and really takes care of folks. We were coffeed, fed, pampered, and otherwise treated like royalty. That is the way of things at VFG, and I will go back there every chance I get. This year, Kim and Allen even took me to the John Glenn Museum which was a blast. Even with the whole starter on the van thing (another story entirely)… Anyway, there I go digressing again. The point of this blog is that on the last night of the event, that being Saturday, Heather throws a bash complete with a live band. The band, as always, is The Barstool Prophets— a couple of guys with barstools, guitars, and a ton of talent. And, as usual, they insisted that I come up and sing with them.

Therefore, I suppose this is my public apology to those in attendance who were forced to listen to me bellow off-key through “Turn The Page“, “The Perfect Country and Western Song“, and even an accappella rendition of “The Ballad of Serenity“.

Rumor has it there are pictures out there, complete with some of my friends up there singing with me. Some of the evidence is apparently even on Myspace. I guess I’ll have to go look.

More to come…

Murv