Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Why New York Doesn't Like You, and Never Write Alone

This post really is going to be about the process of writing a novel. I promise. It's just going to take a wee tangent to get there. "Trust me, I'm telling you stories."

Real stories make their way into fiction in strange ways sometimes.

So, I used to live in New York City. Brooklyn, to be precise, and Windsor Terrace to be really precise. I visit NYC a few times a year, most recently this past weekend. Now that I'm a visitor and not a resident, I periodically forget the Truth - yes, capital T - about New York. You see, when I visit, it's a whirlwind of nostalgia and friendship and art and food and wine (a lot of wine). The city lulls me into a false sense of security, and I start feeling pretty great, looking at the concrete jungle all lit up and vibrant, like the city itself is celebrating my return.

I was striding along Greenwich Avenue in the West Village on Monday, delighting in the crisp autumn air, the streaming bright sunshine, the hustle and noise and life of the city, when I failed to notice the neon orange construction cone standing in front of me on the sidewalk. I was too busy being confident, you see, to notice petty things like physical obstacles. So naturally, I stepped on the cone, whacked my arms against the nearest telephone pole to try to get my balance back, failed, and took a lovely swan dive across the concrete and landed flat on my face.

At least four people were standing within two feet of me when this happened. I imagine a couple of them probably had to jump out of the way to allow enough room for the full length of my swan dive, for which I am very grateful (it was an impressive dive). When I scraped my face off of the sidewalk, muttering something wise and witty, like "unngghhhh... my head....", I saw that every single one of these people was studiously watching the traffic light, and ignoring me. No one turned around. No one said a thing.

And then I remembered: oh right, this is New York City. It doesn't give a crap. New York won't celebrate my return. What it will do is stick a foot in front of me and trip me, then look at its nails and pretend it didn't see me go flying, just to remind me that it's way, way cooler than I am.

Well, truthfully, it is way cooler than I am, so that's OK.

I picked myself up, brushed myself off (uninjured, thankfully), had a good laugh at my own expense, and went back to Boston a humbler if slightly more irritated woman.

This is not to say that I didn't have a great weekend. I did. I was visiting one of my best friends, a fierce and fabulous force of nature who I'll call The New Messiah (and no harm or offense intended to anyone of any religion. It's just an old nickname). The New Messiah is one of my best critics. She gets the dubious honor of reading the first drafts of my writing, the ones that really should be chucked into a dark corner and hidden from all eyes except my own. She reads through the dreck, anyway, putting up with my worst habits, and gives me honest and constructive feedback.

She didn't read anything this weekend - I have no first drafts right now - but she did listen patiently as I fumbled through an explanation of my newest idea. We were standing on a subway platform in Brooklyn - the G train platform, which, for those of you uninitiated into the joys of the G, means that we had a nice, long, extended time to wait, and talk.

When I finished talking, she looked right at me, and said, "That sounds like a great idea. I'd read that book."

Now, whether or not this is true (and it is; the New Messiah is many things, but she is not a liar. If she hated the idea, she would tell me. This is another reason why she gets to read my first drafts), this a great thing to say to an insecure writer.

And then, she did the next great thing you can do for a writer: she talked through my idea with me, ad nauseum. She asked excellent questions, gave thought-provoking suggestions, and by the time the G showed up (only 17 hours later, no biggie), I felt like it might actually be possible to pull this damn idea off.

I know it seems roundabout, but this whole story really is central to the process of writing a novel.

You see, there's a great myth that writers are solitary creatures. We are, to some extent; we do work alone. But very few of us write alone. For me, my friends are essential and much-valued parts of my process. They act as sounding-boards and collaborators; they edit and proofread and cheerlead and tell me the awful truth when no one else will. And I love them for it, and I never get through the outlining process without them.

Oh, yeah - the part about face-planting on the sidewalk? Yeah, that's not about my friends or my process. Sorry. BUT, I will almost definitely be putting a scene like that - with that feeling, equal parts irritation and humor, and that memory of being ignored by the giant, ever-turning city - into a book. So you see, it really all is related.

27 comments:

  1. LOL. Queens. Yup, I KNOW what you're talking about. So many things I do NOT miss (like scraping the ice off my front steps), and so many others its hard not to miss. (The food. Can I say too much good about the food?) Of course, I had a slightly different experience, being there with kids. I actually had quite a few people looking out for the lady with the baby. So I guess that's the key. If you're going to live there, have a baby. (Or borrow one so people are nicer to you.)

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    1. Queens, eh? So you know all about the G train, too.

      Ohhh, the food. I so hear you. Boston is a great city, but it just doesn't have the same diversity of - well, everything (sorry, Boston, but it's true).

      I like the advice! NEVER LIVE IN NYC UNLESS YOU CAN BORROW A BABY.

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  2. Oh yes, use ALL of the emotion from that experience in your books! My first time in NYC I was very pregnant and carrying around the world's largest laptop and people kept bumping into me left & right and not ONE of them ever apologized to the pregnant lady. So I guess my addendum to Crystal's advice is to make sure the baby is out of you, haha.

    Friends who support the writing process are the best!

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    1. LOL! Ok, new advice: NEVER LIVE IN NYC UNLESS YOU CAN BORROW A REAL, LIVE, OUT-OF-UTERO BABY.

      Got it!

      Man, NYC is brutal to pregnant ladies too, huh? I guess it's universal. Yikes.

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  3. glad no injury occurred! I used to have a friend I'd get together with every Friday and we'd hash out our ideas and traded work and drink coffee. It was pretty awesome.

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    1. That sounds wonderful - every week! I would love to be able to do that. It DOES sound awesome.

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  4. That is such a funny story about NYC. Sorry to hear about your face. At least you must have known that the blogosphere would sympathize. Definitely something to put in a novel. All the New Yorkers will relate. In my town, if that happened you'd have twenty people with their phones out ready to call 911. Seriously. Good luck with the shiny new idea, too.

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    1. LOL, yes, my face is OK, and it's nice to get support from my fellow bloggers! I love that everyone in your town would be there to call 911 for me. Sounds like a lovely place to live :)

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  5. I'm lucky to have an online friend who patiently talks through my current WIP with me via email. And I do talk ad nauseam about it sometimes. But writers need someone like that to help them hammer out the best version of their novel they can. So important.

    Sorry about your swan dive into concrete. I'm sure those people only looked away to spare you the embarrassment of meeting their eyes. :))

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    1. LG! I'm so glad to see you online. I hope all is OK in your neck of the woods. I've been thinking about you.

      Yes, that's a much nicer interpretation of what happened! Everyone was being very discreet ;)

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  6. Lol! I haven't been to NY yet, and now. . . Honestly, it sounds fun, maybe a little stressful. Glad you weren't hurt. You're right. Writing isn't a lonely thing. They say it takes a village to finish one novel. Nice meeting you!

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    1. Yup - villages for kids AND novels :) Thanks for coming by! I also think I misspelled your name in the comment I left on your blog - I'm sorry about that!! It might take a village to get my head on straight... ;)

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  7. Wow, I see myself in that story. I have run into walls and fallen flat on my face. In my case, I'm a clutz. I wish I had the excuse of being inattentive. Great piece.

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    1. LOL! We can all just pretend we're being inattentive, I think, rather than really clumsy ;) Lord knows I bump myself into things too often, too. Thanks for coming by!

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  8. Sorry about the fall. I've found NYC people to be pretty friendly, actually, particularly when I'm lost and such. It's so true what you say about writing in a community. I'm glad to have connected through Follow Fest.

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  9. Hi Liz! Thanks for stopping by my blog. It's great connecting with people with the same interest. I like variety in my writing as I have the tendency sometimes to get bored.Or maybe that's because I still haven't found my niche yet.

    I agree with what you said here about New York though I absolutely love it. There is always something to see and discover.

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    1. I agree; New York is a amazing city. Sometimes I just have to remember that it may not return my affection ;)

      Variety is wonderful! In general, I say the less limits, the better.

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  10. Sorry about your big trip in NYC. ;) Glad nobody was really paying attention. You're right that we don't write alone. Support and critique groups are a writer's best friends!

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    1. Thanks! You're right, at least no one was pointing and laughing!

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  11. Didn't Joss Whedon get mugged in NYC and nobody noticed? Nice place...

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    1. Did he really? Yikes. I think it was when he was a kid, but it sounds like it was more than once, so double yikes.

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  12. Great post! Funny and insightful. And I'm extremely jealous of your friendship with the New Messiah. That's a spectacular treasure you've found. I can tell you really appreciate her. :)

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    1. Thank you! I really do appreciate her. I've been blessed with some amazing friends in my life, and I can honestly say I'm grateful for them every day.

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  13. How fortunate of you to have someone who's always willing to read and give honest feedback. A writer's dream! Sorry about your New York incident. Had I been there, I would at least have laughed... after learning you were not hurt. Actually, I was chuckling some as I read this. Then I would have definitely helped you up. But I'm not a NYer. :) Writer’s Mark

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    1. Oh, laughter is an entirely appropriate response! Thanks for the metaphorical hand, too :)

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  14. LOL. I can't believe no one even asked if you were okay when you face planted on the sidewalk. Down here in the South, it doesn't work quite like that. Then again, we ain't cooler than NY City. :)

    You hit it right on about writers being solitary creatures but still needing the thoughts of others to get their stories to the "right" place. So true!

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