Nearing the 30,000 word mark of The Confession, the odds of this manuscript ending in short story land–a very long short, so it seems–approximate zero. Can’t determine if it’s a novella or novel yet. Either form is equally possible, as I refuse to inject my preconceptions into the process. All I know: When making time for this project, the pages happen. The real fun is I have no idea what store the content rises from; the situations just appear. That mysterious genesis happened to me before, though only in the midst of a short story.

Speaking of narrative streaks, one of my favorite bits of writing lore is Ray Bradbury and Fahrenheit 451. Stone broke, he rented a typewriter at the rate of a dime per hour. The story went, he pumped less than ten bucks in the slot for a first draft. More amazing, his butt only left the seat for bathroom breaks and sleep. In other words, he wrote essentially straight through the days, ripping off an incredible stream of fiction. Just hearing that fact in his radio interview with Don Swaim, I had much to learn from Bradbury.

His achievement planted a seed in my subconscious.

I wondered if it was possible to write quickly. Well, now I know I can rack em up, particularly if I am scared. And I’m terrified. The fear is not because the piece has creepy elements or is in any way horror. No, it’s for another reason altogether.

To be continued…