-Be frightened underclassman.
-Decide to write novel so that will be person worth speaking to at parties and also to change world and self.
-Excitedly produce short prologue out of thin air.
-Realize have, as usual, given main characters awful names.
-Keep names out of cussedness.
-Hope am good enough writer to become famous anyway.
-Settle in gleefully for months of planning.
-Begin with one outline-ish word document.
-Assign pretentious title from Hopkins.
-Spend summer filling awkward orange notebook with disconnected paragraphs, most written by Tolkien, not self.
-Use special pen.
-Never mention to anyone.
-Make lists of books for character (not self) to read.
-Allow word document to spawn eighteen runty chapter babies.
-Eat M&M’s.
-Eventually mention to one friend, then two, then three.
-Refer to as “my story.”
-Become overwhelmed when friends speak confidently of future B&N author cardboard cutouts.
-Feel weird.
-Search internet for pictures which look like characters.
-Discover no one looks like characters.
-Wonder if characters are too ugly or too pretty or just too fictional.
-Encouraged by crazies of NaNoWriMo, write twenty actual pages in one year.
-Hide away in princess lounge to do so, usually wearing pajama pants and fuzzy blanket as cape.
-Pretend am doing something respectable and normal like biology.
-Feel covert and important.
-Watch Mad Men to inspire self.
-Realize have given self five seventeen year old boys to write about.
-Question own decision making skills.
-Tell more people.
-Continue to shyly use word “story.”
-Have brilliant idea to do independent study!
-Realize will have to begin saying word “novel” for clarity.
-Use “novel” in conversation, usually whispering and doing awkward side-eye to gage reaction.
-Promise to put new friends in as characters “just crossing the street or something.”
-Regret decision.
-Write syllabus for following semester, brazenly assigning self one hundred whole pages.
-Become horrified by others’ unconditional confidence in abilities.
-Decide everyone is possibly mentally deficient (including self, for trying.)
-While home for summer, read Thomas Wolfe for inspiration.
-Hate Thomas Wolfe.
-Continue to read Thomas Wolfe.
-Write another actual chapter.
-Regret hundred-page decision.
-Consider sending pathetic email to independent study professor.
-Give chapters to mother.
-Wait.
-Re-read Mennyms books and weep.
-Receive chapters back from mother, covered in red and “don’t be discouraged.”
-Take twelve deep breaths.
-Revise some.
-In first independent study meeting, when professor cheerfully asks about current progress, begin crying.
-Realize am safe from professor ever asking same question again.
-Continue to be terrified.
-Discover deadlines excellent for forcing courage.
-Create whole bookmarks folder of encouragement websites for writing.
-Become surprised by usefulness of internet.
-Put one word after another.
-Become suspicious when professor unequivocally likes new chapters.
-Wonder nervously if professor actually knows about novels.
-Begin to adjust to own use of word “novel.”
-Struggle, however, to adjust to friends’ use of word “book.”
-Become surprised by continual question, “What’s it about, or can I know?”
-Wonder if world, including own English professor’s wife, believe am hording magical personal secrets.
-Become embarrassed by own inability to summarize plot.
-Wish plot was full of magical personal secrets.
-Tell sassy close friend entire plot in detail.
-Allow friend to give character fatal illness.
-Refuse to allow friend to change first name of main protagonist.
-Become less afraid.
-Turn in self-assigned pages approximately 30 hours late on regular basis.
-Decide sleep is good reward for writing.
-Discover if keep self up writing too long, head will refuse to stop writing, even in bed.
-Decide writing will have to be its own reward.
-Send uncomfortable chapter to friend to avoid asking questions of delightfully awkward professor.
-Become pleased with own cleverness.
-Begin writing acknowledgements page.
-Go, go, go.
-Insert unplanned chapter in act of great daring.
-Decide to use as senior honor’s project so will never have to let go of baby.
-Become sloppy.
-Consolidate chapters into document called “A Draft for Word Count and Ego.”
-Long for revision.
-Dream about revision.
-Wish could time travel to next semester when am revising.
-Become alarmed by professor’s comments about narrative point of view.
-Wonder if POV is even important.
-Wonder what POV even is.
-Become reckless.
-Send apologetic late night emails to professor for incoherence of narrative.
-Drink Earl Grey.
-Cry nonsensically loud tears of joy.
-Nearly finish draft before bed.
-Wake up in elation.
-Actually finish draft!
-Post well-planned facebook status.
-Perform deeply private happy dance.
-Raise ire of entire TLC by printing 144 pages immediately before classtime.
-Use massive stapler.
-Carry around printed draft like newborn child.
-Become terrified by others’ eagerness to hold it.
-Email draft to family. (Change “Ego” to “Encouragement.”)
-Sit in bath planning eradication and merging of certain minor characters.
-Refuse to type or write single word in interest of “letting story breathe.”
-Read portions of draft aloud to self while roommate is away.
-Stab maliciously at embarrassing portions with finger.
-Send impossibly patient independent study professor messy thank you note.
-Consider studying for finals.
-Consider beginning new project.
-Continue instead to mentally smother current project with affection and abuse.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
Alice with Paper 