As he passed other doors on the way to 37E, some ajar, some only cracked, he saw other women. Some were still bloody, others sleeping, all with headscarves still carefully in place -- the nurses were very attentive to the dignity of their sharia sisters. The door to 37E was much like doors A-D, flaking yellowed paint, rusty hinges, a grimy square of glass placed too high in the frame for most to see in, and though he probably knew the patients of A-D, her friends and colleagues, only E held the tender promise of Nadia. He opened the door as quietly as he could and slipped into the room. A single window shone deep hues of the setting sun to warm the opposite wall. The blanket that sprawled across the bed clung to her bony curves and she, skeleton child of the metal bed frame, clung to herself, arms wrapped together. She was asleep, curled on her side like always, so close to the edge of the bed it seemed she would fall off. If it weren't for the needle taped in the crook of her elbow, she could have been napping in their flat, waiting for him to come home. He pulled a worn chair to the side of the bed and sat gingerly on the edge of it. Taking one of her hands in his own, he stroked the smooth skin on the back of her hand with his thumb. He would wait until exhaustion of the IV drip wore off, when she would wake and see him there with her, his own head resting on the thin mattress beside their hands, overcome by fatigue.
plot: nadia or sofia (name undecided) is moroccan but was raised in the UK by her immigrant moroccan parents. the guy is nameless right now, but british and they are in a relationship ... obviously. I want this to take place in morocco, but I'm not sure of how probable this political scenario would be there. there's been a coup by an extremist group - king assassinated, legislature and government suspended - who is violently repressing the western saharans fighting for separatism. nadia is working with moroccan women's rights leaders who carry out a peaceful protest requesting the new "government" reinstate the liberal women's rights measures of the previous government. they are gunned down. this is where we're at. the plot would involve multiple flashbacks establishing nadia's childhood and relationship and other experiences leading up to the violent opener. not sure where the plot's going to go from this, though.
weak! I think writing a book on a blog would be awesome.
ReplyDeleteweak?!
ReplyDeletethen give me some advice about how to write a freaking book.
i just meant that there wouldn't be regular postings.
and while i might share other paragraph vignettes,
that's not a book! the necessary method of structure would never hold on a blog.
if i had a written book, i would share it bit by bit on my blog, but it seems unpractical to share it while it unfolds. nevermind. maybe that would be cool to see the changes and transitions. i think you're changing my mind while i write. whatever. we'll see what happens.
what do you think about the plot?
ReplyDeleteI think the plot's good.
ReplyDeleteI think the way to write a book is to just write. Don't overthink (possibly don't think at all). Write & write & write. At some point look back & clean it up, fill in holes that have been created by later writing, run spellcheck & publish! :)
"the necessary method of structure"?!? What the heck does that even mean? As if there's any method, structure or method of structure that's necessary to writing!
Seriously, just write and forget the rest. The rest can come later.
(I meant to say something about how to tie the blog into the writing in the last post, but after I wrote it I couldn't figure out where to put it in, thus a new comment.)
ReplyDeleteI'd treat the blog as the rough draft. Don't force yourself into any blog post structure or anything. Just write & post.
My main suggestion would be to remove any arbitrary restrictions to writing. Have no rules; ignore anything that gets in the way.
thanks. seriously.
ReplyDeletehaha now i know what you do at work all day.