When and how to begin with BEGIN?

BEGIN is the title of my next novel. I can’t even write that sentence without attempting to delete or amend it. BEGIN is the title of the novel I’m writing. But even that sentence requires amendment. It is the title of the novel I was writing (last touched in March), and will be writing again—though I haven’t dared open the manuscript for months. I can’t let myself visit the pleasure of it in the tiny jags of time available, just right now.

I will begin writing BEGIN again this summer. Soon. 

My library job ends in two weeks.

As does my time-limited stint as “producer” (hapless producer, one feels at times) of the X Page Storytelling Workshop, season 6. Season 6???! Tickets for the performance are available here—it’s called “The truth is …” and it’s playing one night only at the Registry theatre in downtown Kitchener, Wed, June 25^th, 7PM. Please come for stories, for the stories are life-giving.

Look for me when school’s out in two weeks. I’ll be running out the doors with the kids, slipping off my sandals, standing in the grass, and maybe then, maybe then, my writing of BEGIN will begin again.

How will I parcel out my time? What do I need to write this book?

I have a publisher—Simon & Schuster Canada. (Yes, it’s official.)

More importantly, I have an editor—the brilliant poet and novelist, Katherena Vermette.

I have a pub date—fall 2027 (though those are always tentative).

I need a few intangibles, if I’m honest.

Health, sleep, sweat, rest. Dedicated time. Ear plugs?

Relaxation, intensity, hunger, delight.

Belief. Trust. Confidence—that too, especially that. You know this, don’t you, fellow writing friends? Maybe to that, I need, too, companionship that’s quiet and reassuring, and that would like to join in collective writing and drawing exercises after breakfast, before the work of the day begins …

I imagine for myself a near-hermit’s devotion to the hours, immersion in the subject, the playful giddiness that takes over when I’m making something that feels new or powerful or unexpected, that surprises me with some unearthed truth.

I can’t wait to begin.

Because I hope, I hope to finish what I’ve started. I hope to make good on what I find in the digging. 

xo, Carrie

PS If you know of places to rent/borrow/sneak into that would make for good writing intensive spaces, please let me know!
PPS The image at the top was spotted in Chicago, which I visited a few weeks ago with one of my kids, who was presenting at their first academic conference.