Raided Library for Comfort Me With Apples

I was supposed to watch Sex and the City with HobbitGirl this afternoon - but a bad case of flu (her, not me) postponed those plans. Instead, I went to the library - again. This is my third trip to the library this week. I had to go back though, because the only copy of Comfort Me With Apples was due to be returned on 31st May - today. I had to get my hands on that copy before some other library patron steals it from me again.

Yes, I have been tracking the loan status of that book online for the past week. Yes, I can be relentless when I really want something. Yes, I love Ruth Reichl's writing. Yes, it is just a book. Yes, I am scary.

I did manage to find that copy of Comfort me With Apples, which I spent the whole afternoon reading at a coffee shop. I'm 144 pages into the book and I love it.

I think Tender at the Bone reads so well because Reichl understands the power of a story. It is a memoir of Reichl growing up, coping with school, making friends, falling in love, marrying and finding her place in the world. Like David Copperfield, it is structured as a bildungsroman. Through food, and through writing, Ruth Reichl finally discovers her calling. At the end, when she quotes her friend, Marion Cunningham (Marion was an alcoholic who reinvented herself in her middle age after she attended a cooking class by James Beard), she might as well be talking about herself:

My family may not have liked it, but I think I finally became the person I was meant to be.

I think the reason I love Ruth Reichl is because she shares the same ideas on food and life as M.F.K. Fisher. In Fisher's 'Foreword' to The Gatronomical Me, she wrote:

It seems to me that our three basic needs, for food and security and love, are so mixed and mingled and entwined that we cannot straightly think of one without the others. So it happens that when I write of hunger, I am really writing about love and the hunger for it, and warmth and the love of it and the hunger for it ... and then the warmth and richness and fine reality of hunger satisfied ... and it is all one.

Food and love and life - they are the same. Yes, Reichl is writing about the food - but she is really writing about falling in love and making life's mistakes. Food nourishes and sustain life. It is life that is the true subject of Reichl's books - a life that has known pleasures, heartaches, variety and nourishment through food.

It is important to know how to eat, but the real art is to savour. I believe a person who knows how to savour food might perhaps also learn to savour life. When one is careless and indifferent to what they put into their body, they are also careless and indifferent to how they treat the rest of the world.

Oh, I must mention I also picked up from the library this title: The Magical Chorus, by Solomon Volkov (who wrote St Peterburg). It is a book about the cultural history of Russian, across painting, music, dance, theater, and cinema - covering artistes like Tolstoy, Kandinsky, Malevich, Rachmaninoff, Stravinsky, Diaghilev, Nijinsky, Stanislavsky, Meyerhold, Eisenstein and Tarkovskyto Solzhenitsyn.

I was browsing the first chapter and I learned that when Chekhov died, his coffin was brought from Germany to St Peterburg in a railroad car labelled, 'For Oysters'. That didn't make me want to go read more Chekhov. It did however, remind me of the deep fried oysters in Tender at the Bone and the oyster po'boy I once told myself I had to try when I travel in New Orleans. Later, while reading Comfort Me with Apples, there was a description of the eating of oysters. I remember the creamy texture of fresh oysters, the way it moves on the tongue, the briny, metallic taste of it, with the tinge of lemon.

It was pleasure indeed.

Been Bad. Raided Library

The public library has graciously doubled the loan quota this month. This means until end of June, instead of usual 8 books, I can check out a maximum of 16 books. I know this is less than some other libraries, but we work with what we are given, right?

Here be the visual of this week's haul (over the last few days):

List from the top:

1. The Apprentice, Jacques Pepin


2. The Library at Night Alberto Manguel


3. White Slave, Marco Pierre White


4. The Making of a Chef, Michael Ruhlman


5. A Novel in a Year, Louise Doughty


6. Last Rituals, Yrsa Sigurdardóttir


7. Twenty-eight Artists and Two Saints: Essays, Joan Acocella


8. The Art of Eating, M.F.K. Fisher


9. The Reach of a Chef, Michael Ruhlman


10. Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone, Deborah Madison

Will be busy for a while.

GK Chesterton Birthday

I just found out G.K. Chesterton was born 29th May, 1874. Hey, I posted some links to his essays on his birthday, so I did manage a tribute to the big guy.

What if Proust was Alive Today?

And what if Proust Discovers Livejournal?

Very emo.

'FESS UP FRIDAY | Back to Square One

One of the most difficult piece of writig I had to do last Saturday was my resume. I'm not totally satisfied with it. But I've submitted it, and it's done. Now we just wait.

What is a resume? It's really your sell-sheet/press release, where you are marketing yourself to potential buyers (employers).

My problem is: I'm the sort of person who hates having to explain myself. That makes it difficult in situations where elaboration is necessary - like writing a story.

For the past few weeks I was trying to write a scene between the two main characters. I'm trying to fleshing out the relationship - and power dynamics - between them in that single scene. I keep adding to the scene, because so much seems necessary and yet not enough is being said. Or am I trying to do too much in one scene, when I have an entire novel to work with?

*sigh*

I regret to report I have scrapped all that I had written. (Okay, I saved the Word file - just in case)

Word-count as of today is ZERO. Yes, we are back to Square One.

Wait, that's not true. There was something I salvaged: a single line from one of the character:

"I'm not the kind of girl you can hide from your mother."

I'm not sure what to make of it. It seems to say something about the character. I'm keeping it for now.

As for research:

1. Read The New Yorker's profile of Grant Achatz (He's chef of Alinea in Chicago. The guy has worked with some of the best culinary masters - Charlie Trotter, Thomas Keller, Ferran Adria)
2. Finished reading Tender at the Bone. Loved it!

3. Picked up the following books from the library:
   a) The Apprentice by Jacques Pepin,
   b) Making of a Chef by Michael Ruhlman,
   c) White Slave - the autobiography of Marco Pierre White.

   White is the youngest chef to be awarded three Michelin stars. He is also known as "The Man Who Made Gordon Ramsay Cry", and the first "Rock Star Chef". I adore these bad-boy chefs. Which may explain why my sous-chef is not a saint either.

4. Started reading Kitchen Confidential and Making of a Chef.

   I'm enjoying Anthony Bourdain, even if he's mean to vegetarians. I can afford to be forgiving; I have high self-esteem. Also I like how he makes chefs feel like pirates. In fact, while reading Kitchen Confidential, I started writing a scene in my head of a bunch of line cooks just squatting outside the restaurant trading barbed banters.

   Making of a Chef, I'm still reading the first few pages - still too early to form an opinion.

________________________________________________________

PS: The Literate Kitten's link to all 'Fess Up Friday-ers. Or FUFers.

GK Chesterton on Detective Stories

G.K. Chesterton has written some of the finest detective stories in English. His Father Brown stories has a gawky Catholic priest whose secret to crime solving lies in his astute empathy and psychological insight. Personally I esteem him above Arthur Conan Doyle - because Chesterton is obviously a more gifted writer. Not just of fiction - Chesterton is also a poet (an okay one) and a great essayist.

I found a link to some Chesterton essays on the detective stories today. Rereading them was a pleasure and the highlight of my day, so I'm passing them on:

• A Defence of Detective Stories


• Errors about Detective Stories


• How to Write a Detective Story


• The Blue Cross


• The Ideal Detective Story

Hopefully you will enjoy Chesterton as much as I do.

MUST CHECK OUT | Sleeping Chick

Very sweet story told entirely in graphics. Must check it out!

Click here.

Yes. What is it with me and farm animals?

Percy (Nine)

Your friend is coming I say
to Percy, and name a name

and he runs to the door, his
wide mouth in its laugh-shape,

and waves, since he has one, his tail.
Emerson, I am trying to live,

as you said we must, the examined life.
But there are days I wish

there are less in my head to examine,
not to speak of the busy heart. How

would it be to be Percy, I wonder, not
thinking, not weighting anything, just running forward.

~ Mary Oliver, from Red Bird

This poetry is for those of us who thinks too much, and yearn sometimes for a simpler way - a way of living more spontaneously, more carelessly. To be overly conscious sometimes brings with it a certain kind of pain.

PS: Photo of Mary Oliver and Percy - the actual dog Percy - here.

Percy (One)

Our new dog, named for the beloved poet,
ate a book which unfortunately we had
left unguarded.
Fortunately, it was the Bhagavad Gita,
of which many copies are available.
Every day now, as Percy grows
into the beauty of his life, we touch
his wild, curly head and say,

"Oh, wisest of little dogs."

~ Mary Oliver, New and Selected Poems: Volume Two

Percy and Books (Eight)

Percy does not like it when I read a book.
He puts his face over the top of it and moans.
He rolls his eyes, sometimes he sneezes.
The sun is up, he says, and the wind is down.
The tide is out and the neighbor's dogs are playing.
But Percy, I say. Ideas! The elegance of language!
The insights, the funniness, the beautiful stories
that rise and fall and turn into strength, or courage.

Books? says Percy. I ate one once, and it was enough.
Let's go.

~ Mary Oliver, from Red Bird

Discovering Through Another's Playlist

Every Wednesday, Paper Cuts's Living With Music feature will showcast a playlist of songs from a writer or some other kind of book-world personage.

I usually glance through the playlists to see if there is anything interesting. Sometimes it is the writer that interests me. I look through their playlist, curious to see what music inspires them. Sometimes, it is the playlist itself that is interesting.

Pico Iyer's playlist has many recognisable artistes, yet it felt unremarkable.

The A.M. Homes fan in me was delighted that the writer is also a fan of the Leonard Cohen song, "Hallelujah". (It is a beautiful song, a metaphysical ballad, celebrating love, faith and life all at once—because they truly are the same thing.) Like me, Homes has multiple versions of the tune on her iPod. She has the k.d. lang, Jeff Buckley, Bono, Brandi Carlisle and Leonard Cohen versions. I have Jeff Buckley, k.d. lang, Rufus Wainwright and Leonard Cohen. I have not found the Brandi Carlisle version—but I will, one day.

I love Brandi Carlisle.

There is something voyeuristic about looking through people's playlists—but for those of us who loves looking through other people's reading list, we might understand the emotions behind this impulse. Maybe it is about looking for a connection. For someone who shares what you love and how they might lead you to something new. Or maybe we are just voyeuristic busybodies.:p

I was going through Rebecca Walker's Playlist last week and I have one thing to say about it:

RESPECT.

It is an amazing list - jazzy, soulful and divine. She has included "Here Comes the Sun", the Beatles tune covered by Nina Simone, Feist, Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, Keren Ann and Joni Mitchell. The artistes I recognise tell me I admire her taste. So I moved on to the artistes I have never heard of, hoping to find something new.

That was when I heard Imani Uzuri.

I was mesmerized.

Listening to Imani Uzuri is a spiritual experience. Those deep, lush, powerful vocals. The soulful lyricism. I feel like this when I am listening to the music of the Sufi masters, where song is a visceral prayer, a cry of love. This is how Imani Uzuri sounds like to me.

More at http://www.myspace.com/herholywater

Many Books I Can Die Without Reading

William Grimes has an article about the book "1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die." It says nothing new - nothing you haven't already thought about. Why was this article even written? But the way it ended did manage to provoke a sneer out of me. So, I quote it here:

No matter how well read you are, you’re not that well read. If you don’t believe it, pick up “1001” and start counting.

In his novel “Changing Places,” David Lodge — not on the list — introduces a game called Humiliation. Players earn points by admitting to a famous work that they have not read. The greater the work, the higher the point score. An obnoxious American academic, competing with a group of colleagues, finally gets the hang of the game and plays his trump card: “Hamlet.” He wins the game but is then denied tenure.

That’s the thing with reading lists like “1001 Books.” There’s always that host of the unread.

Come to think of it, I have a personal white whale: “Moby-Dick.” I really must read it before I die.

Nope. I can die in peace without finishing Moby Dick.

'FESS UP FRIDAY | Procrastination

I made a simple button for 'Fess Up Friday last week. The type-writer seemed a tad bit anachronistic, so I found this picture instead where Snoopy upgraded to a laptop. It even has Woodstock sitting there as a supportive audience.

I made the button when I was supposed to be writing. Procrastination is a powerful thing: I get so many (other) things done - my bookshelves are finally dusted and my laundry gets done. If I procrastinate enough, I can take over the world.

This week, word count remains around 1,800. No actual writing was done. *sigh* I hope for better progress next week.

What did get done:

1. Drew up a research reading list
2. Put The Apprentice and Making of a Chef on hold at the local library. I hope to pick them up this weekend
3. Read blogs by farmers: Grow Better Veggies and I Love Farms
4. Finally named all my main characters.
5. Set aside a notebook for all my note-taking for the story
6. Reading Tender at the Bones
7. While drinking soup, suddenly thought of turning two of the characters into ghosts - so that it becomes a fantasy piece instead. I'm keeping it as Plan B though.

Can I add: "Going back for yoga class" into the list of things done? Yoga - er - grounds me. Improves focus, and er - makes me happy so I feel more productive?

My Expanded Research Reading List: Updated

Did I mention how I always loved research when I was in school? I can be methodical when I set my heart to it. Pulling different ideas together and seeing the connections - it can be very rewarding. Sometimes I wonder if I should have pursue a career in the research field.

I digress - because I can never think straight. This is an expanded reading list - I'm probably not going to tackle all of them. But it will be a good guide when I search the library.

The book I am most excited about is Wendy Johnson's Gardening at the Dragon's Gate. But the book seems to be under-going reprint or something. It's out of stock from the distributors and I will not be able to place an order for it at the moment. That, and it's not available from the local library. I sigh.

I'm reading Tender at the Bone right now, and loving it. Ruth Reichl's light and humorous memoir of the people who influence her culinary passions makes me want to read all her books. Hopefully this weekend I can pick up Comfort Me With Apples (Anyone else smiled at the M.F.K. Fisher reference? It takes very little to delight me) and Garlic and Sapphires.

I've re-organised the reading list. I started the list as part of the research for the novel I am writing (very slowly). I am interested in how we approach food, and by extension, how we approach the other aspects of our lives - family, friends,lovers - and aspirations. Oh, yes - the farming/gardening aspect is relevant.

So, I've divided the list into a primary reading list - books with themes directly relevant to my novel (oh, it sounds so exciting). Other books that are of interest - and I might pick them up one day just because I want to - I've included them in the Supplementary List.

Thank you for all the suggestions.

Slightly Updated Research Reading List:

• The Art of Eating, M.F.K. Fisher (I have tremendous respect for her, and I feel that I need to re-read some of her writings)
• Gardening at the Dragon's Gate, Wendy Johnson
• Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life, Barbara Kingsolver [thanks Andi & ToujoursJacques]
• In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto, Michael Pollan (I actually have the proof around the house)
• My Life in France, Julia Child [thanks Yogamum]
• The Apprentice: My Life in the Kitchen, Jacques Pepin [thanks ToujoursJacques]
• Heat, Bill Buford
• The Art of Simple Food, Alice Waters
• Alice Waters and Chez Panisse, Thomas McNamee
• The Soul of a Chef, Michael Ruhlman
• The Reach of a Chef, Michael Ruhlman
• The Devil in the Kitchen, Marco Pierre White
• Kitchen Confidential, Anthony Bourdain

Supplementary List:

• The Sharper Your Knife, the Less You Cry: Love, Laughter, and Tears in Paris at the World's Most Famous Cooking School, Kathleen Flinn (well, it's a free proof)
  
• The Making of a Chef: Mastering Heat at the Culinary Institute, Michael Ruhlman [Darla, I trust you]
• Service Included: Four-Star Secrets of an Eavesdropping Waiter, Phoebe Damrosch (the HarperCollins people are trying to sell it to me)
• Alone in the Kitchen with an Eggplant: Confessions of Cooking for One and Dining Alone, Jenni Ferrari-Adler (again, free proof)
• On Food and Cooking, Harold McGee
• The Joy of Cooking [The BIBLE - recommended by Doc Martian]

YOGA | I'm Back Again

Oh. Just a quick note: I went for yoga class again on Tuesday evening: Hatha class with my hard-core Teacher M. My body isn't as strong as I would like it to be, and my legs were trembling a little after all the Warrior variations.

But it was fine. No dull pain at the navel - at least, I was careful not to overstretch. Side-twists are just fine too. Just have to watch myself, not expect too much from my body at this point, and just do it.

Tomorrow is another day to practice. That's all that is to the practice, isn't it - you just come back, one day at a time.

Have You Voted For the Sexiest Vegetarian Yet?

Emily Deschanel and Ian McKellen Have My Vote for the

It's frivolous fun. :)

I think I voted either Jorja Fox or Joan Jett last year for the Sexiest Female Vegetarian. But Sir Ian gets my vote every year.

Veggie Pride Parade 2008

[Picture of Penelo Pea Pod from the official Veggie Pride Parade NYC website]

My friend Serene just had to send me the link to the New York Veggie Pride Parade 2008.(thanks, sweetie! keep them coming! ;p)

The event took place last Sunday. It looks like so much fun. Lots of costumed vegetarians marching the streets - including the seven feet Penelo Pea Pod on the left.

The parade’s participants wended their way peacefully through Greenwich Village to Washington Square Park, led by a seven-foot-tall pea pod and an outsize carrot, who would later marry onstage in a faux ceremony. A giant pink replica of a human colon, replete with polyps and a sullied colostomy bag, brought up the rear.

Food and Love and My Usual Ramblings

We have a long weekend this week with Monday (19th May) being Vesak Day - a public holiday. I was supposed to spend the time reading and writing. Alas, I spend a good deal of it watching Gordon Ramsay's Hell's Kitchen instead. I'll put it down as research, since one of my main character is a sous chef.

What do I know about being a sous chef in a fancy restaurant? Very little, unless you count my part-time stint as a clerk in a French restaurant from 9 years ago. (It was a fun job, actually - brought to an abrupt end when the owners got into a dispute with the landlord over the rent and the restaurant was forced to shut down.)

I'm reading Ruth Reichl's Tender at the Bone right now. I've been the buyer for our Lifestyle section for the past few years, and while I do not claim to be an expert, I will admit to a growing interest in the area - especially for food writings. I read M.F.K Fisher's The Art of Eating last year. It was interesting, and it made me want to explore further the emotional relationship we have to food.

One of the erronous assumption people make is that because I am vegetarian, I am indifferent to food. In fact, I believe the opposite is true. It was when I became vegetarian that I started really paying attention to what I eat. I become more conscious of my meals: the ingredients, the taste, the texture, how they are prepared. It's not just about avoiding the meat - you also have to make sure you have a balanced diet that keeps you healthy. When I am not eating right, I can feel the difference in my body.

I am also curious about the the preparation of a meal - because it is one of the most intimidate and personal food experiences. Since I turned vegetarian, I find myself having to cook more. I am still not very good at it, but I try.

A friend once told us this story, of how her sister was in Korea, and she sought out this old lady who was renowned for her kimchi. When she asked the old lady about how to make good kimchi, the old lady replied: You have to season each cabbage leaf individually. As you massage the seasoning into the cabbage leaves one by one, imagine your family happily enjoying the kimchi you made for them.

Her method of preparing kimchi is a lot of work. Most of us just pick up a pack of kimchi from the supermarket instead; it's easier, so why bother, right?

I am not an expert here, but I think there is something to what the old lady is telling us. Just imagine if we can put that much love and mindfulness into preparing a meal, it would be something extraordinary indeed.

I was also looking through my old magazines over the weekend. I found the Yoga + Joyful Living article that spurred me to want to write this story about a farmer and a chef. (Right now the story stinks like ripe blue cheese. You see why I would be embarrassed to have people I know learn about this? :p)

It's a small feature on Deborah Madison, whom I know as the author of Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone. What surprised me was that in her younger days, Madison practiced at the Tassajara Zen Mountain Centre, where she served as inaugural chef of Greens restaurant, as well as its head monk.

Asked what anchors her, Madison says without hesitation, "Sitting. Zazen." She pause and adds, "And my garden. It's literally grounding. When you grow your own food, it's clear what's for dinner."

It's as simple as that. A short article in a yoga magazine, about a woman who believes in growing your own food for dinner, because it anchors her. It just struck me - there is a love story here (or it's probably just my brain at work.)

And just in case anyone is interested, I drew up a reading list yesterday. For research purposes, of course. :)

• Gardening at the Dragon's Gate, Wendy Johnson
• Heat, Bill Buford
• The Art of Simple Food, Alice Waters
• Alice Waters and Chez Panisse, Thomas McNamee
• The Soul of a Chef, Michael Ruhlman
• The Reach of a Chef, Michael Ruhlman
• The Devil in the Kitchen, Marco Pierre White
• On Food and Cooking, Harold McGee
• Kitchen Confidential, Anthony Bourdain

Winterson | "...an intense experience needs an intense language"

Jeanette Winterson brought a friend to the stage production of The Year of Magical Thinking. The experience led her to meditate on death, and the language and poetry of death.

Wittgenstein said that "death is not an event in life. We do not live to experience our death"; which is strictly true but not emotionally true. My own feeling is that death is integral to life, but lost to language. When death approaches, when death happens, that event falls outside the scope of what can be said. To write about it is a kind of magic - an evocation, an invocation, a re-membering of what has been dis-membered. The scattered life, now returned to so many atoms, becomes what atoms are - empty space and points of light. I suppose the writers who find a way of saying what resists all saying find a way into the empty space and the points of light, allowing death to be both the wholly private and personal experience it must be, and yet a collective happening.

C.S. Lewis, whatever you think of his Christianity or his politics, achieved this beautifully in A Grief Observed. It is not simply a matter of understanding one's own situation, but a matter of finding the words to express the human situation, without platitudes or patronising. So when Lewis begins: "No one ever told me that grief felt so much like fear", we are with him, and he is with us.

I have to admit that I struggled with The Year of Magical Thinking because I felt remote from Didion's experience. Vanessa Redgrave is a profound actor, but I found the text too limited - both parochial and sentimental, and lacking in poetry. I am not sure that death can be done without poetry. By which I mean that an intense experience needs an intense language.

And yet, another friend of mine was really moved by the play. It may be that if anything maps closely on to your own experience, then it works. Poetry, I think, does not depend on shared experience, but on shared emotion, the emotion shared between writer and audience. A fabulous actor can pull anything into being, but as a writer, I suppose I ask for the language itself to be authentic - it is not enough that the experience is authentic. Much is deeply felt, but how do we express it?

I came away wishing I had been given one single line as powerful as "Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life and thou no breath at all?" But then I need such lines to carry around in my invisible pockets.

I went home and read Tennyson's In Memoriam, Emily Dickinson, Christina Rosetti, certain passages from Wuthering Heights. We all have our own list, I guess.

"We all have our own list" - that's probably true. To make sense of grief, loss and death, one of the book I found helpful was Joan Didion's The Year of Magical Thinking. There is something in her coolness that was clarifying. When my Uncle Bernard passed away earlier this year, I was suddenly seized with a need to re-read The Year of Magical Thinking.

I also reach for the poetry of Mary Oliver for comfort. Perhaps like JW's said: "[A]n intense experience needs a intense language". When intense emotions threaten to overwhelm you, there is something grounding in Oliver's poetry. It brings you back to the earth, to nature. It reminds me of something larger and more wondrous than myself.

What else? Thich Nhat Hanh, of course.

Does anyone else have a list of books or writers you return to in the face of death, loss or grief?

'FESS UP FRIDAY | Some Gaimanesque Tips

Some of my friends in the real life (as opposed to this virtual blogsphere) actually know about this blog. But I think only 3 of them ever post comments on this blog. So, I'm always a little surprised sometimes, when they talked to me face to face, text message me on my phone or email me -- about something I posted here. In this blog.

"You mean you read my blog?" I would wonder.

Apparently, they do. Which means there are people out there - people who knows my face, my real name, my phone number, my address, my place of work - these people know I'm trying to write a novel.

This accountability thing is suddenly feeling a little stressful. But, here's some of the things I did this week that contribute to my writing:

1) There might be something to this 'Fess Up Friday - I actually managed about 1,800 words. It's not a lot and there are many awkward bits I need to re-write, but I'm leaving that for now. Just trying to get words on the page.

2) This week I spent some time reading Neil Gaiman's blog - which incidentally has some good advice by the man himself on writing. Here's some Gaimanesque Writing Tips:

Neil Gaiman, offering his opinion on actually getting your first draft written:

As for thinking time versus writing time, well, that's up to you. But -- and I wish it were otherwise -- books don't get written by thinking about them, they get written by writing them. And that's when you make discoveries about what you're writing. That's when you get the happy accidents.

So think all you like, but don't mistake the thinking for the writing.

Neil Gaiman's advice, on working on your drafts:

The second draft is where the fun is. In a first draft, you get to explode. The objective (at least for me) is to get it down on paper, somehow. Battle through the laziness and the not-enough-time and the this-is-rubbish and everything else, and just get it written. Whatever it takes. The second draft is where you go and gather together the fragments of the explosion and figure out what it is you did, and make it look like that was what you always meant to do.

So you write it. Then you put it aside. Not for months, but perhaps for a week or so. Even a few days. Do other things. Then set aside some uninterrupted time to read, and pull it out, and pretend you have never read it before -- clear it out of your head, and sit and read it. (I'd suggest you do this on a print-out, so you can scribble on it as you go. )

When you get to the end you should have a much better idea of what it was about than you did when you started. (I knew The Graveyard Book would be about a boy who lived in a graveyard when I started it. I didn't know that it would be about how we make our families, though: that's a theme that made itself apparent while the book was being written.)

And then, on the second and subsequent drafts, you do four things. 1) You fix the things that didn't work as best you can (if you don't like the climactic Rock City scene in American Gods, trust me, the first draft was so much worse). 2) You reinforce the themes, whether they were there from the beginning or whether they grew like Topsy on the way. You take out the stuff that undercuts those themes. 3) You worry about the title. 4) At some point in the revision process you will probably need to remind yourself that you could keep polishing it infinitely, that perfection is not an attribute of humankind, and really, shouldn't you get on with the next thing now?

Sometimes I think I rather spend time planning a novel than writing it. It reminds me of Geoff Dyer's Out of Sheer Rage, a book where he writes about how he procrastinated on the task of writing a book on D.H. Lawrence.

Procrastination may be a sign of fear - you forestall the conclusion - so you never need to find out how you might have fallen short.

Like Gaiman says, "books don't get written by thinking about them, they get written by writing them". I have never had problem charging into something without a definite plan. So, why stop now?

Excuse me while I go write something.