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THE HARLEQUIN was the first book I finished beginning to end in the new office. It was also the first book in years that I finished in a late night rush of inspiration. I ended up doing forty-nine pages from the day session which netted me seven, to the thirty-two that came from late afternoon to 3 A. M. The last time I sat up in the dark and did that many pages at once was LUNATIC CAFE. I did fifty pages in one rush. The session ended at 5 A. M. Trinity was only a few months old, so sleep was precious, but quiet time to write was in even shorter supply. At 3 in the morning I was getting a little jumpy, seeing things out of the corner of my eyes, but not bad. The night of the 5 in the morning, well, let’s just say that I knew we had a mouse, but the herd of mice I was seeing from the corners of my eyes just couldn’t be real. When I typed the last word of the book, I made myself get up and go towards one of the mice. They’d stopped disappearing when I looked directly at them, which was kind of unnerving. I got closer, the mouse didn’t move. Unusual for a mouse. I made myself reach out and touch it, because I knew it wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t real. It was a curl of electric cord. Once I touched it and realized that my mind was making shapes out of nothing, I went to bed. My husband, my first husband, woke me at seven to get up with the baby. I told him, “I went to bed at five.” Wisely, he just got up and took care of Trinity. But he had to get me up by eight because he had to go to work, office job and all that. It would be the first day Trinity didn’t take a nap. Of course. Anyone who has cared for a small baby knows how the lack of sleep can get to you, but I still remember those cavorting hallucinogenic mice. I never wanted to do that again, but oddly, it felt good to be up and exhausted enough from writing to begin to see that edge of delusion. It meant I really had given my all to the process. There was something about fighting the good fight in the new office, turning on louder and louder music to keep alert. Nine Inch Nails was what I blasted through the night. I didn’t even need headphones to keep the rest of the family asleep, because the new offices are far enough away from the main house that no one could hear it. We’re also far enough away from neighbors that they couldn’t hear it either. Very nice. But something about the whole process helped the office be mine. It’s been christened now. Or bloodied, or it’s just become my space now. Again, very nice.
For this late night, early morning, session, Jon not only knew I was up doing it, but checked on me about every hour. I can thank him for introducing me to Nine Inch Nails. How it migrated to my office, I’m not sure. Hope he hasn’t been looking for it. He is aware now that it’s in my keeping. He walked up while it was blasting away. It is very nice to be married to someone that is intimate with my work, and my schedule. Someone who knows what I’m doing, and helps me with it. I did not ask him to check on me, it would never have occurred to me to ask. I’m a writer, and that is a solitary beast. You can ask people to look stuff over once you’re finished, or bounce ideas off them, but in the end the writing is done alone. You fight the dragon by yourself. But it’s nice to know I’ve got a base camp where people are waiting at the bottom of the hill with tea and sandwiches. It’s even nicer to know that if I’ve been too long in the cave that someone will grab a torch and brave the hill, and see who’s winning. The dragon is dead, the book is done. But I guess writing a book is like a CSI episode where the dragon slayer has to dissect the body, and clean up the cave, get it ready for it’s next occupant. Hmm. Writing for me is part muse driven rush, almost sexual, then sheer battle with blood and sword, then forensics where you dissect the battle and decide how best to cut the body up, then finally land lord, time to clean up the cage and put out a sign saying, “Dragon wanted.” I wrote last night in the blog that I think I’ve got the beginning of the next Anita book in hand, maybe. If so, I’ve got a glimpse of the next dragon. It looks deceptively mild mannered, but then don’t they all at the start? But the next dragon will be Merry # 6. I can hear the belly scales scratching across the rocks in the distance. It’s on it’s way, and it’s big one, but then, aren’t they all.