Finding the Form with Bobbie Jean Huff
I have written poetry, essays, short fiction and novels. With poetry—including the two published in TNQ 173—I have never had any difficulty finding the form: a poem arrives unbidden, decides to stay, or, if it’s the middle of the night and I’m not smart enough to reach for my phone to punch in its “plot” or structure, it vanishes, never to return.
Fiction is different. My first novel, The Ones We Keep, came to me as a short story during a conversation between me and my husband at a burger palace in Maine. We were playing the “What If” game, and when it was my husband’s turn he said, “What if you found out that one of our children had died—but not which one?” I quickly wrote it as a short story that never sold, but I realized years later that there was more to the plot than could be contained in a mere five or six thousand word piece. It would work as a novel—or not at all. Happily, it worked.
I recently finished my second novel, which also began life as a short story. Now I was ready for the third. I already knew its plot, but I still had to figure out its form. I’m especially fond of alternating timelines, and situations that don’t completely resolve, but the first step, I knew from experience, was to write an outline, at first with a broad brush, and then with as much minute detail as I could muster. Only after that would I be able to find the form.
Over time, the whole enterprise of writing has become more difficult—at least for me. I believe some of the culprits to be aging (of the writer!), the pandemic, ever shortening attention spans, and constantly being online. So I don’t expect that writing this third novel will be a walk in the park. Wanting some illumination of its difficulties, I decided that I would keep track of everything that happened during the first day.
Below is that day’s record.
A Day in the Life of a Writer
10:51 Open laptop to begin outline of Chapter 1
10:53 Receive mildly amusing text from sister on sibling thread
10:55 Brother texts back LOL; you and other sisters do the same
10:57 Resume outlining Chapter 1
11:32 Dermatology office texts reminder of Friday’s appointment (#1 attend, #2 reschedule)
11:35 Resume outlining Chapter 1.
12:34 Friend texts thanks for Netanyahu piece, she’ll read right away and get back.
12:45 Husband texts from basement office: Did you download guest symptoms form for tomorrow’s visit to nursing home friend?
12:51 Find nursing home site, download and print form, fill out and place in purse.
12:57 Resume outlining Chapter 1.
1:03 Husband texts about grandson’s digger toy, part of which he lost when trying to assemble it. What can be done?
1:11 Print out digger toy diagram from digger toy site and place in kitchen for discussion later. Then text daughter-in-law that digger toy will be fixed on weekend.
1:14 Husband texts Is tuna ok for lunch, even though you hate tuna and he knows it. You text back, Fine.
1:17 Resume outlining Chapter 1.
1:24 First son phones. Says he’s digging massive hole in yard for just in case. Just in case what? you ask, almost hysterically. Son responds nothing to worry about, Ma, will call you tomorrow. Then he quickly gets off phone.
1:29 You text husband: Why does first son need huge hole in back yard?
1:31 Husband doesn’t respond.
1:36 Husband shouts up from basement: Can’t find my phone—can you call it? You call it five times while husband walks around listening for it.
1:39 Resume outlining Chapter 1.
1:41 Lunch with husband, after which third son arrives to borrow car. Shows pix of furniture he bought for new apartment. Husband and son, outside your study, talk enthusiastically and loudly about something called zip ties.
1:58 Third son leaves. Resume outlining Chapter 1.
2:04 Daughter-in-law texts thanks so much, fourth son will assemble digger toy instead of husband but don’t mention to husband, please. Let her know when part arrives.
2:06 Resume outlining Chapter 1.
2:09 Raid kitchen cupboard for Lindor Milk Chocolate Truffles. Eat six, standing up.
2:13 Text husband to hide Lindor Milk Chocolate Truffles but not in usual hiding place, please.
2:15 Resume outlining Chapter 1.
2:17 Second son Facetimes granddaughter seated on sofa singing while tiny plastic piano on her lap plays London Bridge. Son asks if granddaughter has perfect pitch. You reply that you can’t tell with someone who hasn’t yet learned the notes. You proceed to argue over whether perfect pitch (which you have) means you’re a good musician. You say no, perfect pitch makes things more difficult. Son says how could it? You point out that not only does he not have perfect pitch, he’s not a musician. You feel bad after you put down phone.
2:28 Friend texts back sorry, no time to read Netanyahu piece until next week, meaning she disagrees with it and doesn’t want to fight with you about it.
2:30 Resume outlining Chapter 1.
2:41 Husband texts from basement that he’s sneezed three times, a small part of his throat might be sore, did you remember to order the three-in-one tests and have they arrived? You text back that they’re on linen closet shelf.
2:43 You google the accuracy of three-in-one tests.
2:49 You google chest pain: anxiety or heart attack, and how to tell the difference.
3:09 Resume outlining Chapter 1.
3:11 Dermatology automated voice calls: press #1 to confirm Friday, #2 to reschedule.
3:14 Sister texts on sibling thread again, something slightly less amusing than her morning text.
3:16 Brother, then other sisters (including you) text LOL.
3:18 Resume outlining Chapter 1.
3:39 Husband texts he’s making shepherd’s pie, and because he hasn’t gotten much work done today, can you peel potatoes and put on to boil for 40 minutes at 5:10? You refrain from texting back a bad word.
Bobbie Jean Huff is a Canadian-American whose debut novel, The Ones We Keep, was published by Sourcebooks. She has written short stories, essays and poems for various Canadian and American publications.
Photo by 🇸🇮 Janko Ferlič on Unsplash
