Getting to the Only Thing…
About the time a
manuscript has become so huge in my psyche that it is taking over daily life,
making it difficult to speak coherently to other humans, impossible to tend to
tasks like bed-making, cooking or the day job--
Then it’s time to
pack an overnight bag, typewriter or laptop, dog, supply of java and chocolate
and take myself away, to escape the structure of daily life. To find a space where I can get lost in the book, let it be the only thing for 20+
hours a day, perhaps broken up by two hour naps, snacks instead of meals…notes
taped to walls and mirrors, room to pace and read pages out loud or talk myself
through a tricky plot point. No phones,
no conversations, no alarm clocks. Just
The Book.
1982: The Albuquerque motel
was probably called the Blue Aztec or the 66 Lizard, but I remember it as the
Brown Bag Motel. A very seedy place with a broken neon cowboy sign, lock-picked
doors (telltale splinters), straggly cacti along the parking lot and 1950s
atomic-age curtains which hadn’t been cleaned since then. Gaunt men with leathery skin came and went
from the rooms on either side of mine, clutching bottles of rum or vodka in
brown paper bags. There were cigarette
holes in the bedspread.
Perfection!
I sat my IBM
Selectric on the small desk next to Gideon’s Bible, taped my character note
cards to the mirror, plugged in the Mr. Coffee.
For the next 48 hours I worked on my novella and never opened the
curtains onto the white-hot sunlit Route 66.
Those were the days of cut-&-paste, so scissors and tape were in the
tool kit, when a paragraph needed to be relocated.
Anonymous,
solitary, focused, the only sound that of typewriter keys. Although a non-smoker, I vaguely recall
smoking a brown cigarette or two from the vendor on the corner…just to act the
part.
1992: My new novel needed to
be edited. An opportunity arose to house
sit with my dog for a week in a friend’s adobe hacienda in rural New
Mexico. I had graduated from the
Selectric; using her computer, I brought my chapters on discs (back then they
were small, blue, square and hard), piled the printout draft on the kitchen
table. I plugged in the espresso machine
(and bean grinder), lived from a well-stocked refrigerator (gourmet cheeses,
salad and cookies) and paced in my socks up and down the wide tiled hallway, in
and out of the many rooms, reading the pages aloud, scratching out paragraphs.
At night my dog and
I were both hypnotised by the sounds of cicadas in the trees and moths banging
against the screen door. I red-penned
the manuscript at the kitchen table while the desert night breeze tickled my
legs, wafting in from the open door, where my dog softly woofed at the moon.
2005: Ardnamurchen, Scotland, staying in a self serve house on Loch Shiel, I set up a writer’s corner near the window
overlooking the water and the 13th Century ruins of Castle Tioram. On an
antique vanity, I placed my laptop and manuscript box, red pens, coffee
mug.
With only the
sounds of the water and the occasional stag, I worked on a murder mystery set
in the very house I was occupying. My
heroine stood out in the water at low tide, frantically trying to reach someone
on her mobile phone which didn’t work…her dog had seen his master kidnapped and
was distressed, racing up and down the fog on the beach. Real life, the self-serve holiday – receded
into the mist and the story became the
thing. This time the writing
sessions were broken up by long hikes out into low tide with my dog. If we stared long and hard enough, we could
almost see America over the water.
He was happy, I was
happy, the book was happy. (Well, the
kidnap victim wasn’t too happy but…)
2010: I needed time to refocus.
I saved my pennies and rented a few days
at a Scottish hunting lodge during Christmas holidays, staying in a chalet by
myself. My Christmas gift to me. This time I cooked healthy meals which
included a glass of red. I walked my dog
a few times a day and we stared at horses and Christmas lights in the falling
snow. Then back inside, back to the
laptop, up 'til the wee hours, into my fantasy book for children.
Real life was very
complicated that year; the children’s book was not. Here, the world was safe and silent and
white, and I was deep into a mythical forest with a feisty wee heroine and wild
dogs that could morph into trees.
My real dog,
smelling like wet snow, snored by the fire.
Otherwise, the book was the only thing.
MMA
Michelle MillerAllen is just finishing Indie AuthorsScotland's 'How to Self Publish' course and will be publishing one novel on
Kindle and POD this Spring 2014. 'Guardian
of the Dark School’ is a paranormal mystery with erotic undertones which takes
place in the wild mountains of Northern New Mexico. In Autumn 2014 she will publish a family book
(Print On Demand), ‘The Green Dogs of Lonely Woods’, about the human/dog relationship, with
illustrations by Stoke-on-Trent artist Chris Bell. Her previous award-winning novels were
published in America by Amador Publishers, Albuquerque New Mexico. If you would like to get in touch with
Michelle, who now resides in Scotland, she is on Twitter at @3RedWings or visit her at michellemillerallen.blogspot.co.uk
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