Novel update

My novel is coming along. I think telling people that I was going to start writing on Oct. 1 was a very good thing to do. It’s a coming out of sorts, a commitment not just in my head but out loud, spoken. It’s like I signed up for something. There have been a number of things about the experience thus far that have struck me. For me, it’s imperative to resist the temptation to edit my own work as I write it. I can spend an entire afternoon tinkering over one paragraph, moving commas around and such, so for me it’s almost painful to not go over everything and change it. But, I am learning to resist. When I write myself into situations that I am unable to address the way I think they should be addressed, I am teaching myself to simply type the words NEEDS WORK and keep going. Closely related, I think, is the issue of scope. With this project I am not writing about a thought, or a realization, or an event or a conversation: I am attempting to put an entire life and its universe on paper. It’s a very different realm for me, a much, much larger canvas. It’s exhilarating at moments, realizing that I can explore all sorts of things, meander here and there and see what happens, but it’s also terrifying. Which brings me to the fear factor. Each and every one of the past 15 mornings have included a moment, usually when I’m getting the coffee going, when I’ve thought, What if today is the day I hit a brick wall at 100 miles per hour and am unable to go any further? A trivial thought, perhaps, but I can feel it in the pit of my stomach when it presents itself. I think I know my way around the language pretty well, and I think a bit of fear and dread here and there is not such a bad thing. It keeps me honest. And it apparently keeps me writing. This morning, as the trees across the street came into faint relief during the slow light up, I reached and then surpassed 10,000 words.