When I tell people I’m writing a novel in Paris, they usually look at me like I’m full of shit, but sometimes they ask, “About what?” I’m still not sure how to respond, as the plot crafting process has taken an entire year, and there are lots of gaps that haunt me at night. If I only have a minute to answer the question, I usually say something like:
“Oh it’s very, very dark. My main character is in a dark, dark place. I take frequent breaks from writing because it goes against my bubbly personality and drags me into that dark hole. I’m on a break right now, in fact. It was getting a little too dark for me.”
That usually gets a nod, a short follow up comment like, “It must be really hard to be a writer.” I say, “You have no idea.” And we move onto more laughable subject matter, such as French paperwork and French Wi-Fi.
But occasionally, someone asks, “About what?” and I can tell they’re sincere. So for all yawls who really want to know, voila! I present, The Reveal: