Sorry I was out last week, guys. I've been a bit out of touch with the world lately, writing my novel and all. Oh, you didn't know I was writing a novel? Well I am. It's practically my life right now, being a novelist and writing novels. What's my novel about, you ask? I'm not sure I know how to answer that. What's life about, really? It's tough for me to say anything specific because at this point in the creative process it's very hard to tell just where the muses are leading me, me and my novel that is. I'd say it's got a little bit of everything in it though. You know, characters, themes, dialogue. A plot. Plots galore, really. But I'd rather not get into all that right now. Novel writing is a very private process for me, a novelist. My story is like a part of me now, a private part, and it wouldn't be right to expose it in this harsh light. You can tell it's going to be a great novel though. Not that I expect to be understood by the people of my own time. It's one of those novels that only future generations will be able to call the greatest novel of all time. But please, I don't want to speak about my novel anymore.
Did you say something? Sorry, I was lost in deep thought, thinking about my forthcoming novel and what's happening in it. Did you happen to ask me a question about my novel? I told you, I'd rather not give away too much at this point. Not that it isn't worth talking about. My mind is so caught up in the gripping tale I'm crafting that everything else seems to pale in significance. That's how I know it's going to be a good novel. Sometimes I think my novel is more real than real life, so lively are the characters and moving is the plot. It occurred to me the other day while I was sitting and thinking about my novel how boring my actual life is now in comparison to the world of my novel. I suppose that's what happens when you become a novelist though. It's the burden we carry, we novelists that is.
My father asked me on the phone the other day what inspired me to become a novelist. Well, actually, he asked why the hell I was out of work and no longer going to classes. You know how men of his generation are though, so reluctant to show their interest in the arts. I told him that work and school had to be sacrificed along with most other facets of my former life, like showering and not having a soul patch, in order for my gift to mankind to come into fruition, that being my novel. My dad didn't understand me, but I took that to be a good sign, as true novelists are rarely understood by their families because they follow their true destinies instead of taking up the family business. And because novelists have to ask their families to pay their bills while they wait for their first royalty check to come in/finish their first novel.
When do I expect to finish my novel? Ha, you really must not be a novelist, then. It's not for me to decide when it is finished. The novel writes the author, not the other way around. Novel writing is a process; it's something that just happens, like corn growing in a field. It's not something a person does. But since you do seem so curious about my forthcoming novel, and because they've started running a sex column below me, I think I'll divulge just one juicy detail to hold you over: My novel is loosely based on my own life experiences. Semi-autobiographical would be a good term for it. Not that I'm worried about staying within the boundaries of one literary genre or another. With a novel like mine, you really can't worry much about not totally redefining the state of western literature.
I'm intrigued by the face you made when I said that. ""Mystified admiration,"" that's what I'd call it if I had to describe that face in my novel. You know what? I'm going to use that look in my novel. I do now just take inspiration from everyday life like that. That's what novelists always do. We take bits of stuff from real life and make them fake together. What? No, I'm not going to put you in the novel. Just the look you gave me a moment ago. And that one, too.
To contact the novelist, e-mail dhottinger@wisc.edu.
