“Nostalgia Season” is becoming beautifully unwieldy. Chapter one is, I think, twice as long as the longest chapter in “Lie”. And I know it’s gonna get longer in the edit like the rest of the chapters. Chapter two is looking to be twice as long as chapter one, and it seems that the following chapters will be about that length. That’s fucking nuts, in the best way. My goal for this novel was to make it around 320 pages, a decent novel length and about a hundred pages longer than my first novel. Now, pre-edit, it could easily get to 400. That’s astounding to me because it’s basically two people talking with no real plot. I come from the Scorsese and Kubrick school of thought. Stories about characters are more important than stories about doing something, to me. You tend to be able to figure out the plot of a story before the characters do these days, but you’ll rarely be able to predict a stranger. I’ll do a few plot-driven stories someday, unpredictable as your death, but I’m more interested in characters right now.

Something about “Nostalgia Season” that’s making me a little nervous is that there’s so much talking. Nervous because I haven’t heard about too many stories like this unless they involved talking about intrigue, politics, or that thing that should not be. Luciana and Sadie are just two women who live in a lower-middle class town. They’re very unique women in this town, though. It’s a fun challenge, though, making sure that they justify the pages they’re on. The Edit’s also gonna be fun because I get to add details of them doing things while they talk. People just don’t sit and talk. They look at things and play with things and so on, so I get to add that sort of garnish. Like the bit I wrote last night. I gave Luciana a laptop and Sadie her cat so I had something to play with during the edit.

I’ve started using things from the surveys I made for the gals before I started writing. Those things were too good to just leave there. There’s something Sadie said that I’ve been agonizing over, trying to find the perfect place for it. And it has to be the perfect place, I don’t want it to seem like it’s there because the writer wanted it there, fuck how outta place it is. Something I realized after yesterday, besides realizing that I need a new word besides “realize”, is that writing for the stage will be incredibly easy after this. Not that the next thing I write will be for the stage. No, I’m jumping back into cinema. This director needs a camera.

Luciana will be the prelude to the moratorium I’m putting on what I’m calling the Tank Girl character. She comes so easily to me and although Luciana isn’t Idette, they’re not as far apart as I’d like. So I’m getting Tank Girl outta my system and building a circus of character types for the future. The third chapter’s gonna be oh so welcome because it’ll get me out of Luciana’s damn apartment. I love how I’ve designed it (and earlier this week, I saw that the layout looks like a uterus), but there are only so many ways you can lounge around for pages at a time. It does make you creative, though. The gals are having a very exciting conversation while one’s in bathroom and the other’s at the door, and I don’t think I would’ve had that idea if I wasn’t trapped in Room 2B. With that said, I’m very much looking forward to putting them on the streets of downtown Chicago next chapter. Another thing I’m looking forward to is using just one voice in that chapter. It takes place from Sadie’s perspective, and I’m excited about translating how minds work into a chapter. I haven’t seen this done before and that’s delightful.

Something I read earlier this week stuck with me. You’re the average of the five people you’re around the most. I’ve always been selective about friends, but now I’m obsessive. I don’t need someone mucking up my creativity pool. I wonder if it counts if I’ve watched lots of documentaries and interviews, and listened to lots of commentaries of my favorite directors. I had the chance to talk about “Nostalgia Season” to people recently, and it felt fantastic. I probably came off as slightly psychotic, but all creatives do when they’re talking about people they made up.


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