Talking in circles

As my sabbatical nears an end, I find myself fielding a number of questions: Did you get a lot done? Are you working on a new book? And the most frightening question of all: What's it about?

If I tended to write novels like The DaVinci Code, I suspect that last question wouldn't pose much of a problem; plot-heavy fiction lends itself to quick synopsis. The kind of fiction I write does not. Perhaps that's because it's literary fiction, more about ideas than action; perhaps that's because I'm a female writer. It doesn't take much research to uncover the reams and reams of narrative theory suggesting that male writers tend toward that familiar inverted checkmark of plot structure (conflict, a moment of crisis, resolution) while women tend toward a more circular, recursive form of storytelling. Many people don't understand that, sometimes, there's a point to talking in circles.

I don't think narrative structure breaks down cleanly along gender lines, though. One of my favorite novels is Evan Connell's Mrs. Bridge, which doesn't have much of a plot. India Bridge gets married, has children, leads the life of a society matron in Kansas City; she grows profoundly bored, questions the purpose of her existence, tries to explain her feelings to her unsympathetic husband; in the end, though, she's right where she started. She hasn't changed at all, because she's had no vocabulary to ask for the changes she wants. Honestly, she can't even imagine what those changes might be. And that's the point of the story. It's not a page-turner, but it's utterly heartbreaking.

When I try to describe my new novel, I feel a bit like Mrs. Bridge: I don't get much of anywhere. I'm just getting a clear sense of where the narrative is headed (another difference between plot-driven fiction and literary fiction: I discover the story as I write it, rather than planning out the story before I begin.) I know it's focused on parenting--specifically, on the difficult process of watching yourself become a smaller and smaller part of your children's lives. It's also about life in the remote regions of Idaho--a life that's often threatened by fire. So it's also about firefighters, and the cost of supporting your family with a physically and psychologically demanding job. And, somehow, it's about Texas, immigration law, and the way that affects families too.

How all these pieces will fall together, I'm not sure. I may well discover that some of the pieces belong to other stories. When I was writing my first novel, I discovered that the ending I'd had firmly in mind throughout the writing process made no sense as I approached the end of the story. I won't be shocked if something similar happens this time around.

The element of surprise might be the most important part of the writing process. If you know where the story is headed, what's the point of writing it? How do you keep yourself from growing as bored as poor Mrs. Bridge, who can see the end of her life from the very beginning? Just knowing that I'm headed toward a discovery leaves every door open, even if I'm going in circles along the way.