I'm puzzling over what makes a spellbinding novel stand way above the ordinary. I spent much of the weekend reading Julia Spencer Fleming's I Shall Not Care, and I'm thinking I should ask for a small commission as a secondary publicist for her. I can't put her novels down once I start, even though I see some high coincidences, some almost unbelievable plotting. Just when things are going well or about to for the central characters, she moves in like clockwork with another disaster. But I think it's the characteres--they're believable, clever, funny, all mixed up with emotions--people you and I know about and care about.
On the other hand I just read a proposal tonight for a novel, and it was--how to say it?--too "interior." The narrator was in his own head too much, so that I wanted to say, "Come on, man, get with some action here." I wanted something to happen. As it unfolded there was a kind of interesting story, but it came after too much slowness and while it interested me, it didn't rivet me. I've decided that TCU Press can only afford fiction that you simply can't not publish. Any doubts, and you have to turn it away.
Now I'm without reading material, which will force me back to my own novel to try to make those characters as compelling as possible, though I don't know that they'll ever be as complex as Spencer Flemings or Deborah Crombie's (my two favorite writers at this moment). I met a woman at lunch today who, retired, has turned to write what another friend described as "bodice rippers"--I thought that term went out in the eighties. But she gets up every morning and writes, and I think that's what I need to do. Today I did all other things--emails, prepared a memo for my boss, worked on my taxes, read that proposal, etc. By the time I thought about my novel is was nine and too late.
Last night I made a family favorite, Doris' casserole, and told Jordan and Christian that I knew they'd eaten here a lot lately and they were welcome to come but under no obligation--I was going to make it anyway. They said it was too hard to turn down and they'd be here. I thought about inviting the neighbors but realized that this casserole that serves six gets mostly eaten by the three of us--Jacob picked at a little and Christian ate what he didn't. But it was part of my ongoing campaign to eat in a more healthy manner--so instead of ground beef, I used ground bison; I substituted light sour cream for the real thing, and I used whole wheat egg-style noodles with no cholesterol. I never thought about noodles having cholesterol, but I guess if they're egg, they must. It tasted just as good as usual and we ate way over half of it. I'm not sure healthful eating does much for one if one takes two huge helpings. Tonight I made myself stick to one smaller helping.
This noon I was the guest of Mary Lu at Monday Book Club at the Woman's Club, which has only in recent years relaxed its strict dress code. One of our readers emailed that he'd be by to drop off a manuscript, and I suggested he wait until tomorrow since Susan and I were both going to the Woman's Club where we would try to behave like ladies. He wrote back to ask if we had the proper hats, and I told him that we didn't need hats and we could even wear pants. Mary Lu told me though that one woman showed up in athletic pants once and was asked to leave. I enjoyed the luncheon--the book review was fun because it was about a book by a good friend of mine and one I'd read a long time ago; lunch was delicious, and the conversation in our corner of the table quite fun.
Of course I listened to the President's news conference tonight, and immediately after it was over, Mary Lu called to say, 'Isn't it wonderful to have a president who speaks so well?" I did think he was clear, open, and thorough, and yes I liked it. What fun to see that Helen Thomas is still asking questions! I thought she retired. President Obama was funny when he called on her and said, "Hey, this is my inaugural event. I'm excited."
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