2001-12-12
Tonight was our last childbirth class. There were only six sessions and yet it seemed kind of interminable; I can't imagine the Bradley childbirth prep classes that meet for twelve weeks. We never would've lasted.
Today was another quiet day at home. I managed to get through a few things on my list of things to do but mostly I sat on the living room floor and did my jigsaw puzzle. It's a hard one, this kind of kaleidescopic version of Times Square circa 1950; there's not really any such thing as up and down. For the longest time I couldn't imagine how it would ever come together (I don't let myself look at the box as I'm doing it). But I perservered, did small sections, and finally reached the point where the whole began to emerge.
I realized it's a pretty good metaphor for writing a novel. You need some sense of the big picture, you have the perimeter to get you started, but basically you do the details and follow whatever leads look interesting and then at a certain point it kind of magically comes together.
There are probably other things for which this is an apt metaphor, but I think of writing a novel. I do wonder whether I'll ever do that again. I suppose so, though I still don't have much interest in fiction, the writing or reading of it. I got this novel from the library, The Cheese Monkeys by Chip Kidd, and started it last night. The writing is dynamite, a real pleasure, but I still had that essential "So what?" feeling that I tend to get lately regarding any fiction. I imagine it like losing one's appetite--you can take a bite and appreciate that something is delicious, but you just don't want to eat any more of it.
It's odd, this indifference to something that has mattered to me so very much in earlier stages of my life. I can only wonder whether it's a stage or whether this is the new me. We'll see. Heaven knows how the presence of a child in my life will affect any of this. Will I want to write children's books, like Nancy on Thirtysomething? At the moment that sounds pretty insipid though I guess there's an audience for the non-insipid children's books as well.
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