I’m about to start work on page one of a love story… And I know this novel is setting me up for a heartbreak.
The trouble starts with my need for the reader to love these characters—especially the women. I want you to fall in love with these girls. But in order for you to fall in love with them, I’m going to have to fall in love with them too. Again. And I thought I was (getting) over these chicks—their real details and the ones I’ve yet to make up!
And I’m going to have to do terrible things to them too. I have to. You know this. For the story, sure, but more so: in order for you to really love them, you’ll have to hurt with/for them.
There is no way I’m going to come out of this book clean. I’ve thought about stopping before I even start. But the other night, in the company of a girl well-worth writing about, I watched Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and figured the only choice I have is to pull a Joel-and-Clementine.