And that I seem to have in spades. I had, what some might describe as an insane, drive to get us to Vietnam. Twice. And now it’s on for the book. It will get finished. I will have a rough draft done by the end of summer.
SheWrites has just announced a new contest for unpublished non-fiction/memoir writers who have works in-progress. That’s ME! They’re offering a bunch of different rewards for the final winner, helping her to develop the best proposal/query possible. I certainly could use the help and it is a good impetus for me to keep working on what I’ve got. More info here.
Today I was able to get the first half of another chapter done. Up to nearly 60,000 words and about half done (maybe a tad more) with the story. It’s getting to the really stressful part of our adventure and while I thought it might be fun to write, I’m finding it difficult to relive those moments. I was determined, but scared and feeling more alone than I had in a very long time.
But I’ll struggle through it and make it back to the parts that made me really happy to be in Vietnam.
I was blessed with sunshine and the company of a dear friend this weekend and in the end I came home with four chapter outlines, a narrative arc, a tentative ending and, even, a completed chapter. I got to write about my experience with the fortune teller in Tam Ky.
Three years later his predictions still have not come true: I’m still single and don’t even have a Chinese boyfriend, let alone a Chinese husband. I also haven’t been to jail. He was right about the traveling apart; living abroad is good for me.
So I’ve spent two days trying to coalesce the major events and themes of my book into a readable synopsis and still I’m so unhappy with it. There are bits that I think are good, but things that I know are not quite right and it’s killing me. There are so many bits and pieces of what I wanted to do/prove/be by going on our adventure and I’m having a difficult time narrowing it down. There’s the whole theme of single parenting, lost love, seeking adventure, finding home, shifting life paths, and understanding what it really means to love. There’s more, too, like international adoption and colonialism and classism and too much to include. But I keep trying.
The next three days are pure writing, editing, figuring out some sort of plan for this monster so I can get it finished without getting too much more unwieldy. Hopefully I’ll come back to town with a well-written synopsis, a complete story outline and even some chapters written. Here’s to some hard work…
Writing this book constantly gives me moments to relive and every time that a memory hits me particularly hard, it surprises me. Today I wrote about saying goodbye to a fellow volunteer and more so about having to watch as my daughter suffered the pain of having to say goodbye forever to someone she’d truly grown to love. I wrote and I cried and I felt that same guilt all over again. I suppose it’s good for me and for the writing, adding a depth of reality to things.
And sometimes I wonder if the reliving of the moments is part of why I’ve embarked on this endeavor to write my story, our story. I never want to lose those lovely moments when my heart was filled with love for my children, for the orphans, for the country. But to remember those, I have to remember the sad times, the scary times, the mother-guilt that pervades so much of what I do. I have to feel those moments again, too, as I write. I don’t like it, but I think it has to be done.
I’ve got six weeks to finish my book if I want to have the draft finished by the time of the writers’ conference. Six weeks. It’s taken me two years to get half done and now I need to get it done. We’ll see what I can accomplish when push comes to shove. Again.
Back in 2000, I was freshly divorced with two kids and little life experience. Ten years on, I’ve earned my BA, my son’s nearing graduation, my daughter is bumping into her teen years and we’ve been able to visit Vietnam (2x), China, Thailand, Malaysia, Japan, Taiwan and South Korea.
Ten years of marriage and being a stay-home mom, followed by ten years of single motherhood. I wonder just what the next ten years will hold for each of us.