Jesus, Snoopy. You make it look so easy.

I’m trying to write a book. In reality, it’s more like I’m trying to continue liking the idea of writing a book. Sorry, my book. I’m trying to write my book. I’m trying to continue liking the idea of writing my book.

This was the best idea I’ve ever had. It’s clearly going to be a New York Times Best Seller and I’m going to get rich and famous touring the country visiting thousands of bookstores that don’t exist and signing autographs for thousands of people who also don’t exist. The more I think about it, the more I realistically believe that it could have widespread appeal. I believe people would actually talk about it with each other, recommend it to their family and friends, buy copies for Christmas and/or Passover and/or Talk Like a Pirate Day celebrations, and place expensive hardbound editions on their pristine expensive coffee tables! …I just have to write the damn thing.

Without giving too much away, because all you Tom Writes About Stuff readers are clamoring to steal my generously so-called “intellectual property” from right under my perfect, handsome nose, the story’s narrative is interwoven in point-of-view chapters about fifty different people. The plot revolves around the main character: a dead guy. The story is nonlinear, with pieces of the overall plot revealing themselves at different points of the story’s 24-hour timeline. Threads of plot will come from characters’ own thoughts, casual conversations, overheard discussions between other characters, and events that may unfold from more than one perspective. Have you ever read a non-fantasy book with fifty characters? What the fuck am I even thinking? Who is going to read this?

Everyone. Because it’s going to be amazing. I just have to write the damn thing.

My character family tree doesn’t look quite like this, but you get the gist.

I spent days upon days crafting a sort of family tree, linking characters and their relationships to one another and their relationships to the dead guy. I named all the characters. I gave them ages and interests. Some are sad that the guy is dead. Some are angry. Some don’t give a shit whatsoever. Some are even relieved! Only one person was there while he died. What does he know? What doesn’t he know? What do I know about what he knows? I know some stuff, I know his feelings about the situation, and I know why he feels the way he feels.

It’s all very entertaining, realistically paced, and not corny. It’s going to be fun to piece it all together. I just have to write the damn thing.

I have all the locations picked out. I’m currently working on a chart that shows me where each of the fifty characters are during the 24-hour period. Some will spend most of that day at home. Most will not. Almost all of them will be sleeping at 2am, but a few characters certainly will not be. Why would they? It doesn’t make sense for them to be sound asleep at that hour. Next I’ll need to track who talks to who and when. I need to make sure there are no continuity errors. I need to make sure someone isn’t in two places at once. I need to make sure a character is around at the right place at the right time to overhear a conversation between two other characters. I need to make sure those characters aren’t supposed to be somewhere else at that moment.

That part will the most fun for me. I can’t put a big dent into the story until I have that all hashed out, oh no no no. That would be inconceivable! Then, and only then, can I really begin to write the damn thing.

Pictured: The little brat featured in Chapter 1.

I’ve already written Chapter 1. It’s about 700 words. The little 3-year-old girl is running around the room, oblivious to the deeper meaning of her uncle’s death. She doesn’t know what’s going on. It’s just another day for her. She’s looking for mommy, she has all the Goldfish crackers. Daddy tries to tell her that her uncle is dead, but she’s looking forward to seeing him at Christmas. It’s all very bittersweet. This is how the audience will learn that the main character is dead, from the point of view of a toddler. It’s genius. I can’t wait to write the other 49 chapters! Some day.

I bought a Scrivener license. It’s this kick-ass writing software that acts as an interactive binder. You can set up plot notes, character sheets, folders for chapter sections, and other 500 excellent organizational features. It’s the only way I could fathom keeping track of 50 different perspectives. It has been an absolute joy to use this thing, not even exaggerating. They’re not paying me a cent to say any of this stuff, it’s all coming from the bottom of my withered gray heart.

Of course, I found it exceptionally useful for sorting artists and albums for writing notes and reviews for my Discography Deep Dive blog feature. In fact, I’m spending more time working on that than my book, but I’ll get back to writing my book. Why wouldn’t I get back to writing the damn thing?

Now that I think harder about it, I’m spending an awful lot of time reading comic books, watching TV, watching movies, reading novels, playing video games, and listening to music so that I can focus a lot of my time writing blog content. I love writing in this blog, and it will likely be my #1 writing priority. Certainly, though, once I have more time outside of writing all about all my blog-related interests, I’ll carve enormous chunks out of my damn book. I promise.

Maybe I shouldn’t have written about writing my damn book. Instead of spending 1,000 words writing about the book, I could’ve actually written a little of the damn thing itself.

Next time.