The New Novel – The Reddy Cab Company

So, I started my new novel this week. Four times. What I mean to say is that I have written Chapter One four times, in four different ways. It has been very frustrating to say the least.

Generally, I have a big broad outline in my head of how to tell the story and then I just write. I try not to over-think the process. It worked well in writing the first four books, so I fully expected it to work this time. But it didn’t. Or it hasn’t so far. I do have high hopes for my latest draft. Maybe fourth times a charm.

I suppose the problem is that I have spent too much time thinking about this one and I have written in my head a ton of sections, and bits of dialogue, and character descriptions, and so on. I’m so aware of the big picture that I can’t seem to write the individual parts in any sort of organized manner. I’ve barely begun and I’m ready to write the ending.

I think I’ve finally reached my original fear. I’ve always written poems and short stories and the thought of writing a novel or anything approaching a work of that length always intimidated me. The idea that I would have to write forever before getting to my conclusion seemed impossible to me. Even with the help of NaNoWriMo (which I actually completed twice!), it was hard for me to not rush to get to my ending, but I managed.

Anyway, I think I’ve gotten into the story now and if all things go well, it will all play out like it’s supposed to do and at some point, I’ll have another novel to edit and revise. What Joy!

Just to share the specifics of my dilemma, here’s the original opening –

He stepped off the bus and limped a few feet away just in time to avoid the wall of wind, dust, and gravel as the Greyhound pulled back onto the highway. Welcome home, he thought.

Lincoln Jefferson Reddy was a local legend in Eastlake, Texas. As a high school senior, he had been the best defensive end in the entire state. At 6’8”and 325 pounds, he was almost always the biggest player on the field and often the fastest, as well. Dominating the small school ranks, he was heavily recruited by every major program in the country before betraying his state and declaring that he would attend the University of Oklahoma. Two years and five knee surgeries later, he had returned to Eastlake for his mother’s funeral, his dreams of playing in the NFL long spent.

And in the next draft, the opening became –

Lincoln Jefferson Reddy was a local legend, a hometown hero, or at least he had been one, once upon a time. At thirty, he was still an opposing physical presence, but to most of the local citizens, he was little more than a shadowy figure to be avoided whenever possible. He and his high school buddies lived a somewhat nocturnal existence, out late drinking most nights and in bed nursing hangovers for most of the following days.

The third draft used the same opening lines as the first one. And by the fourth draft, it began like this –

He stood at the kitchen counter shuffling though the uneven stack of cards spilling out of the old cardboard box. Grandma’s Fried Chicken, Sausage and Rice Casserole, Salmon Patties, Easy Bake Chocolate Pie. With each card, he imagined the look, and smell, and taste of each of his mother’s favorite recipes. The little box was crammed with a lifetime of culinary memories and he laughed in remembrance of his mother standing before this very box diligently searching for the specific instructions written in her barely decipherable handwriting.

Drop me a comment and let me know which opening sounds interesting to you!