I’m a huge Kevin Smith fan.
I’m writing a novel.
These two things, as usual, are connected.
One of the things I always assumed I would use this blog for was to, as they say, “blog the novel”. The novel, in this case, being my rewrite of my MA thesis,
Swim. Since I’d already written ninety-six single spaced pages, which basically amounted to a novella, it seemed a bit of a waste to abandon it and start something else.
Which, of course, means that’s exactly what I did.
But, eventually, common sense (yes, I do have
some) won out and I decided to return to my baby. As it remains the longest thing I’ve ever finished and, maybe, the best, I figured I’d give it another whirl. So I rewrote the first few “chapters” and sent them out to my writing group (our own Harwell, Pyles of Regrown Facial Hair, and the one known as Tongs). The first section went over pretty well, as well as a first draft really can.
And then came the second section.
And the universal displeasure. (Including mine).
In its original form,
Swim was supposed to be the story of a man, Kerry Matthews, in his early thirties, stricken with testicular cancer (you know, the one Lance had). The idea behind the story, the
theme if you will, was
not the cancer itself. In fact, I wanted the cancer to be nothing more than an impetus, something that forced our hero, his best friend, and the woman they’d both been… well… nailing… for years to realize the rut they had fallen into. The cancer was supposed to be the kick in the ass that made them all realize they’d all been doing nothing but treading water, when they really needed to be
swimming.
That was the plan.
What is it they say about the best laid plans of mice, men, and guys with one nut?
After discussion with my thesis advisor, I de-aged the main characters a bit, putting them back closer to college age (25, I believe), the better to emphasize the theme without it seeming forced (a couple having an affair for ten-plus years and nobody catching on? Forced.)
Just as an obvious by product of the “theme” and the interaction between the three main characters (the ‘love’ triangle), the original version focused a lot on sex. A LOT. Which should be a ‘duh’ kind of thing, don’t you think? You’re dealing with a guy who’s about to lose one of his ‘boys’ and the impact that has on his primarily sexual relationship with the main female character. Of course you’re going to have a lot of sexual content, especially when telling the tale of their first meeting and night together. So, of course you’re going to end up with a line like “You do know how to eat pussy, don’t you Kerry?” (remind me to tell the story of that line and the ten year old girl I said it to).
That’s obvious, right?
And now… Enter Silent Bob (aka Kevin Smith).
For those of you who might not know (and shame on you and your culturally illiterate selves) Kevin Smith is the man who brought the world
Clerks, Mallrats, Chasing Amy, Dogma, and
Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back (don’t talk to me about
Jersey Girl). All of those movies are funny, funny, funny, and, by and large, filthy (mention the number 37 to any Kevin Smith fan and you’ll find out what I mean). His newest opus,
Clerks II has found itself embroiled in a bit of a brouhaha with the legendary (ass) critic Joel Siegel, who has walked out on the screening and declared it damn near obscene.
Kevin Smith, you see, for all his talent as a writer, has never quite risen above using a dick or fart joke (or discussing the idea of a woman with a donkey, apparently). Which bothers some people.
Silly, silly people. (Pyles, I’m looking at you)
As a devout fan (I have a Silent Bob action figure on my desk at work), some of this has rubbed off on me. So, in rewriting
Swim, I beefed up the part of Kerry’s college roomie, Ellis, a free swinging, potty mouthed, skirt chasing, hung like a God, stud – basically the exact opposite of Kerry. He’s there to give Kerry someone to compare himself to and see all that he’s lacking (physically and metaphorically). And Ellis became the guy who had that line about eating pussy, as part of a lengthy bit of sexual “mentoring” he was giving Kerry. And, as a result, the entire section featuring Ellis became a bit of a running dick and fart joke-a-thon.
Which my writer’s group called me on.
It didn’t fit the overall tone. It had been done. There’s the seriousness of the cancer and then…
this? Valid criticisms, all. And I took them all into consideration and began rewriting again. This time, de-aging Kerry again: now he’s stricken with the cancer as a virginal college sophomore, while living with Ellis and just before meeting the girl, Reggie, who will take his cherry and change his life (in that order).
And as I’m writing, I’ve been moving along just fine (see the first two chapters at
http://neverfinish2.blogspot.com/). But now that I’ve hit the Ellis section… I’m having a little trouble. The guy, and the chapter,
has to be a bit juvenile and there has to be the emphasis on sex. But at the same time, now that I’ve accepted my “literary” status, I don’t want to go so overboard as to alienate readers or not fit in with the rest of the novel.
And that, oh loyal readers, is where I’m at. The first installment of “Blogging the Novel” finds me struggling with finding a balance between discussions of orchiectomies, the potential pain of losing a loved one, and debates on the relative merits of B-Cups vs. D’s and whether those condoms that cover your balls are cool or just plain freaky. How does one balance that?
What Would Kevin Do?
