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The last entry was actually written long hand last Friday the 29th of July. What follows are entries that were sort of written long hand over a series of days starting I believe last Sunday, or even Monday. I thought about breaking this very long blog up into smaller ones. But one, I don’t know how to do that without getting Jon’s computer expertise, and two, well, it sort of all goes together.
Reread the last entry. Not a very cheerful day. But then, I’ve never gotten 567 pages into a book and lost the thread of it. DANSE MACABRE is my twentieth book. I guess I thought that I could try something different and it would be okay, but you change your work habits at your peril. That whole, if it’s not broke, don’t fix it. Or maybe this book was one I’ve needed to do with Anita for awhile and I just didn’t know it. Certainly we’re tackling some hard issues. Whatever the reason . . . I’ve lost the thread and I do stand in the maze and not know how to get out. I’m about to do something that I tell new writers never to do. I’m going to print it out and reread, and do some editing as I go, before I’ve actually finished the book. I tell other writers never do major rewriting until the book is finished. But I don’t know how else to find where I need to go. For some reason I’ve had more trouble than usual holding the plot in my head. I know part of the problem, the new edition on the house. Jon has taken most of the burden of it on himself. For many reasons, not the least of which is that I do not speak construction. Jon had to explain to me what most of the tools did, or at least how they worked. Also how sharp they all are, even when not plugged in. Ouch. But we’ve finally reached the part where choices must be made that cannot be left up to others alone, not even Jon. Paint colors, plumbing fixtures, lighting fixtures, tile, flooring. Wood, what kind of wood? What kind of polish or coating or finish? The edition is beautiful, but I have reached the point where I just want to stop making the decisions and be left alone. The interruptions are nearly constant on some days. The water garden will be lovely, when it’s finished. Everything will be lovely, when it’s finished. When it’s finished.
Our friend Richard, no relation to the character, said of the water garden that it was looking great, but that I couldn’t see it because I was in the middle of it, too close to it. I looked up at him, and said, “Huh, a metaphor for a book.” It is. Deep into a book, you sometimes loose your faith. No, change that, you always loose faith. Most writers that I know, have a moment when they are convinced that the book is crap and they are killing trees to no purpose. Some writers hit the wall near the beginning of a book. Some in the middle. Some near the end. I used to be an early to late middle wall writer. Once I was over the hump then it was smooth sailing. But not this book. This book I’ll hit thirty pages one day and six the next. Once I’ve hit that level of pages, I don’t go back down under ten. Ever.
I have now read about four hundred pages of the book. I’m happy with it. Nothing wrong with it. In fact I’ve written ‘nice’ by several passages of my own writing. Always nice when I reread and think that I’ve captured exactly what I wanted to capture on paper. It doesn’t happen often. I’m going to paraphrase Mark Twain, “The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and the lightning bug.” I, like most writers, feel that most of the time we try to catch lightning and end up with a jar full of bugs. They’re really pretty bugs, very shiny and they do light up the dark, but it’s not quite what we were trying for. But there are a lot of moments in DANSE MACABRE where the lightning crackles on the page. I’ve got the metaphorical burn marks to show for it.
I’m not good at giving up on things. In fact, it’s one of my worst things. Somewhere around four hundred pages of reading today, I realized the problem with the book. I was trying to put too much into the book. Too much plot, too many characters. Just too much. I’ve said in several public talks that Edward and probably even Olaf were going to be in this book. I even have some chapters with Edward and Anita. The trouble is that these chapters came over five hundred pages in. You don’t bring Edward on five hundred pages in unless the book is going to be at least a thousand pages long. It’s not going to be that long. About seven hundred pages is about it. I finally embraced what my subconscious has known for a day or two, that Edward isn’t in this book. Sorry to all those Edward fans out there, I’m disappointed to. But I think it’s better to keep the Edward part of the plot and spin it into it’s own book, then try and tack it on to the end of a different plot. Any time you raise a major plot point five hundred pages in, you’re book either needs a major rewrite, or your plot isn’t working. I was ready to trash the book, but I’ve read most of it, and it works. The book works as is, but it is not a mystery, not in the traditional sense. It is not an Edward plot. Book fifteen will be nothing but the Edward plot, well, okay, that and some very scary vampires that, well . . . Anyway, on the positive I have the second and third chapter of the next book already written. They’re a little too abrupt to be the first chapter, but they can be damned close. Set up in chapter one, on the telephone to Edward asking for some help in chapter two, then away we go.
What is Danse Macabre about then, if Edward’s not in it? Almost everything is a spoiler. Let’s just say that Anita and Richard some to some revelations about themselves as a couple. We learn more of Jean-Claude and Asher’s back story. We see the Mother of All Darkness again. Belle Morte plays a metaphysical visit. We meet some of the other masters of the city here in America. We get to go to a ballet about vampires where real vampires play the vampire parts. I actually don’t know what will happen at the climax of the book at the club Danse Macabre. I have thrown out the plots and plans I made. I’m letting the characters take the reins and run with it. I always seem to work better that way, when I’m chasing after my imaginary friends, or they surprise me completely. I’ll finish the read through, then we’ll get back to where we were, a scene with Requiem, and several of the new vamps from Britain.