Writer In Residence
|February 17, 2013||Filed under Mexico, Writing|
We have a writer in residence at the moment. Yes, I have been writing here on the blog, and have even written a few articles to pitch to a local website here in Playa del Carmen, but I’m talking about a real-deal, book writing writer, and, drum-roll please… his name is Tyrhone.
He’s had the idea for a novel for a while now. It’s a fictional story (the not-true one in case, like me, you get them mixed up), the idea for which he came up with the last time we were here in Mexico, and when he told me about it I was like, “that actually sounds really good.”
You may sense some surprise in my response, and well, you’d be right. It wasn’t that I didn’t think he would be able to come up with an idea for a book, after all I’d been a fan of his work since his limited edition (i.e one) philosophical masterpiece, “An Individual’s Concept of Life and Death”. You may not have heard of it, but it was huge in the West London underground literary circles of ’05.
It’s just that he was taking a LOT of acid back then, and I’d assumed he’d given up long-form writing along with the psychedelic drugs.
And whilst I very much enjoy reading his blog Tell Them I Said Something, paying particular mention to the sensational ‘Please Don’t Touch My Testicles – Massage Gone Wrong,’ and the topical ‘Whale Meat – Like Cow But Controversial,‘ I just never envisaged him to have either the inclination or the discipline to write an entire novel.
That was, however, until the other day.
After staring at my computer screen blankly for a while, I suddenly became immersed in cleaning up my desktop for 3 hours (I had a lot of crap on there, okay?).
Tyrhone piped up, “I’ve written 1500 words, do you want to hear them?”
And of course I concurred, preparing to be mildly frustrated and confused by his questionable grammar and convoluted sentences. I even reminded myself of my rule for constructive criticism: Say something nice first, then give it to him straight.
When he finished taking me through the opening scene of his story, however, and into the life of his intriguing central character, all I could manage to say was:
It was really good.
What I really wanted to say was:
“Who are you, evil novel-writing demon who has possessed the body of my extremely creative and talented but completely-ignorant-of-full-stops boyfriend, and when you’re done can you please jump on into this over-sharing travel blogger and do your literary worst??!!!”
It was really good. Well structured, flowing, atmospheric, powerful and raw, and I wanted to hear more.
I gave up trying to merge the 105 folders of ‘writing ideas’ together on my desk top and became his enthralled sounding board for the next couple of days.
He finished the first chapter, then moved onto the second, and had that down about 6,000 words later. The guy was on fire and it was kind of crazy to watch (and hear).
Yes, this is Tyrhone we’re talking about people, so naturally, this thing is pretty out there.
I’m very excited to see what comes out next, which is certainly more than I can say for my own novel-writing attempts. I’m attempting to write a non-fiction book (that’s the true one!) about, another drum-roll please… ME, since that’s the only subject I’ve ever been able to right about, and I’m telling you it’s been pretty unproductive.
I’ve either found a million other things to do other than sit down and write (yes, I’ve been making some pretty awesome meals), or on the odd occasion that I have attempted to make a start, I’ve gotten too emotional to continue, since typing is nearly impossible on a keyboard covered in snot (it’s slippery!).
I’ve been consoling myself that whilst I may not be cut out to be an author, I am definitely shaping up to be a pretty awesome author’s girlfriend/proofreader/personalized chef. Not exactly the dream life I had in mind for myself, but perhaps it’ll have to do.
Then, today, after scribbling stick figures into my notebook for an hour or so, I began.
And whilst I have no idea whether I like it or not, or if it will ever see the light of day, I do know that it is a start.
A 1,157 word start that, if I’m lucky, I might even finish before Tyrhone’s third sequel comes out.