Played some old music tonight while sitting in the kitchen and writing. Aimee Mann from the Magnolia Sountrack, and Air’s Moon Safari. Those songs take me back. And I’ve figured out that I can get my laptop’s speakers to work if I place the headphone jack into the speaker’s socket, and then press the jack upwards. Don’t ask me what’s going on inside my laptop, but as a result my laptop sits on the table at an oblique angle, supported on the right side by a pile of letters jammed under the headphone jack. Strange, but ah, you need the music, right?
So I finally cracked Chapter 3, set in the belly of the S.S. Leviathan as it sets sail for Europe, laden with 9,000 soldiers and a regiment of WarAngels. It took me forever to slide all the pieces into place, to know enough about diesel engines, hydraulics, internal combustion, World War 1, Doughboys, the time line of the war, and the US attitude towards it so as to actually write those three pages. This book is turning out to be a freaking iceberg–only 10% of what I know makes it onto the page, the rest lying hidden, and hopefully informing the text. Making it credible.
But there–Chapter 3 is written, Miss. Ruth and Private Jack sketched out, given lines and motion and emotion, ready to appear again in, what, Chapter 8? Having so many POV’s is tricky. I mean, damn. This whole novel is proving to be tricky.
So basically, wish me luck. Because it doesn’t look like I’m going to be stopping any time soon.