Complexity

Chatted with the husband last night about Miss Lonely Hearts and realized that the thing that I love, that makes it so fun, is also what makes it so difficult to juggle all the balls and put all the piece together in the right places. Yes I’m mixing my metaphors. I’ve had the flu all week. I’m lucky I’m not mixing worse things.

Anyway, Miss Lonely Hearts came about because I was reading a book about con artists and con games and the Miss Lonely Hearts scam hooked me. I loved it. I wanted to commit a crime on paper. I also love P.G. Wodehouse and his going-all-directions everybody plotting against everybody else manic plots and I wanted to do one.

Which is how I ended up with this book that has been making me puzzle and juggle and cudgel my head for the past months. I have Cass plotting to get a husband and the life she wants. I have Jason plotting against Cass and Miss Lonely Hearts. I have Sam and the Lawrence twins plotting against Jason, and Miss Lonely Hearts plotting against everybody.

All I need is a walk-on who comes into the bar and says “Give me the falcon” and I’ll have everything.

Anyway. It’s complex, and the husband pointed out that maybe the time it’s taking me is due to the complexity. He’s probably right. This is not a simple, straight forward story. It’s convoluted. That’s what makes it fun, that’s what I loved about the idea to begin with and what I wanted above all to pull off. I guess the conclusion here is if I want to write a book in a week, I need to write less complex books. Or short stories. Obviously I don’t. I like novels, I like complexity, and that means being patient with the process.

Patience is not my best thing. Although it is very, very fun to see all the pieces coming together and to let my whacky sense of humor run wild. Maybe I oughta have a walk-on looking for the falcon…(I’m kidding, ED. Promise. No Maltese Falcons. We’re complex enough already.)