I wish I could say I’ve completed a first draft of my next book, but the truth is I’m far from that point. Every night before I fall asleep, I listen for my characters to speak. Every day I continue reading and waiting to get back to work. Ah well, one day soon …
This past week, I took a workshop from the Women’s Fiction Writers Association on writing middles, and I hope to get a spot in the upcoming workshop on writing beginnings and endings. That should cover a brush-up on structure, right?
Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice was the book used as an example in the first workshop. I can’t recall reading any of Austen’s works and don’t own any, so I downloaded a digital copy of the book, but I didn’t have time to read it before the class started. Instead, I watched the 2005 movie version. I loved the movie. (And yes, I know it wasn’t completely faithful to the book.)
Apparently, most Austen fans prefer the earlier BBC mini-series version with Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy. I watched clips of that one, and though I’m sure it was a top-notch production and Firth acted splendidly, I prefer the more recent version with Matthew MacFadyen, maybe because he reminded me of John Cusack. And Keira Knightley, who played Lizzie, reminded me so much of my oldest granddaughter that watching the movie was a delight.
So anyway, I got introduced to Jane Austen fifty years later than most readers do. I confess reading the text was a bit daunting. Maybe my inner ear isn’t tuned to Regency. I had no trouble with the dialogue in the movie, but I’ve since learned it was slightly modernized because the director theorized people didn’t actually speak the way Austen wrote.
Wishing is where I started this and that’s where I’ll end. I wish my Nicole would speak to me with her beautiful words. I wish my Jesse would speak to me in his soft, molasses drawl. I wish the words would flow and carry me swiftly down the river to the The End.
I wish …