memory?

I’m attempting to expand the length of the novel I started for National Write a Novel Month last November, The Uncurious Adventures of Knod Knowingly.  I didn’t hit the 50,000 words, but think maybe I will before I attempt to start a new one this November.  Maybe I’m crazy? Maybe it’s lazy?  I have no idea what I’ll write about this time around.  I had that Knod character in my head for a couple years when last November rolled around.  Well, there is Mowana Winkey who has been in my head longer.  I’m not 100%, but I think she might have been a monkey?  And I know as much about her as I did about Knod.  Anyway,

I’ve taken to going to Island Cafe on Hayden Island to write.  Since Knod’s story takes place on an island, my thinking is sitting on a float on the water might help.  It has, some.  But as I read back through to make sure that I’m not repeating events I come across sections that I have no memory of writing?  

Like this from page 22 & 23.

The trees around the lake were perfectly matched in height and color.  So it created an almost cover for the lake, like a wall.  It didn’t keep out any of the animals but it felt like a curtain and you could almost imaging that it was your own room or even better you very own lake.  That didn’t happen very often.  It was a popular place.  It was the smallest on the island so it didn’t attract a lot of people.

As the other boys swam and dove into the water, Knod laid back on the edge of the lake.  It was just warm enough that the sun felt good on your skin, but you didn’t get hot.  He closed his eyes and even though everyone was making noise, calling back and forth to each other, Knod nodded off.

He felt warm and light.  He could just barely hear everyone at the lake.  Their voiced echoed off in the distance and he couldn’t make out what they were saying.  He walked through a crowd of people somewhere.  He felt like he was in a place he should know but it didn’t look like anyplace he had ever been.  The women were dressed in very shiny dresses with large buttons and many color’s.  Some had feathers in their hair or hat’s on.  Some of the hats seemed as big around as the moon if you looked up at it at night.  The men had on suits and their hair was slicked back and shiny.  Their skin looked tight.  Just like his dad’s face would look right after he shaved.  They kept moving in all directions and paid no attention to Knod.  Knod seemed to be able to move around and through them without getting in the way or brushing up against anyone.  There were about a hundred conversations going on.  Or at least that’s what it seemed like.  Everyone was talking, but he couldn’t make out what anyone was saying.  He didn’t yet see anyone that he knew or even looked familiar.  Then as he made his way to the other side of the room, the people changed and the room was smaller.  There were less people and they seemed to see Knod as he walked through them.  He still didn’t see anyone he knew.  He was too shy to talk to anyone or ask who they were.  He thought maybe they would ask him who he was.  

Who were these people?  Knod remembered a lot of his dreams.  There was almost always someone in the dream that he knew.  Maybe this was where Pop was?  They did all look nice, dressed up like they were going someplace nice.  Like Pop was when he was put into the ground.  He could feel and hear himself starting to ask people if they knew Pop.  Or had they seen Pop?  No on answered.  A few people smiled nicely at him, but no one said anything.  He kept going around the room from one side to the other looking at everyone in the room.  Everyone seemed to be moving in slow motion. 

The room felt soft.  The lights that hung from the ceiling were sparkly and glowing.  Every once in a while someone would new would come into the room, but Knod couldn’t find the door.  He was watching each and every person closely so he could quickly know when someone new came into the room.  If this was where Pop was he didn’t want to miss him.  Pop wouldn’t be expecting him so he wouldn’t know to look for him. 

As he turned around to see the room behind him the room had gotten smaller and there was a new wall.  Knod thought that he was in the middle of the room, but now he was not.  And the crowd was getting smaller.  As he turned back around they also seemed even more different.  They didn’t have on the same clothes.  They didn’t seem to shine as much anymore.  They seemed to have on more practical clothes.  Nice clothes, nice enough for Sunday, but not as nice as before.

Then from way over on the other side of the room he thought he saw someone looking his way and he could hear someone saying his name, “Knod, Knod…Knod!” it got louder and louder.  He tried to make his way to the other side to see who it was.  Was it Pop?  It didn’t sound like it, but then what would Pop sound like here.  Then he realized it was Dek yelling at him to get into the water and he was awake.

Some days I feel I have a way with words.  Other’s … blah, blah, blah.  It’s more of the same.  Feel free to chime in.  I take constructive criticism well.  Although only just a few over 15,000 words, it is further than I’ve ever been.  Maybe it’s a short, not a novel?

 

@jgx

 

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