House of Cards


I brought my passion to work this morning. I like my job, at times, I’m quite fond of it; but I’m in lust over the stack of notebooks in the corner of my cubicle. My girlfriend, this novel I’ve written, is distracting me.

My wife approves of my mistress. In fact, she’s been pushing me to be more involved with her. I first crossed a line, or I should say a “t”, 11 months ago, today. In early December, we celebrated our star crossed relationship when I wrote her climax.

On breaks, when ideas strike, and maybe even trips to the bathroom, the novel and I will dalliance. She isn’t the first other woman of words with whom I’ve slept.

Fifteen years ago, I wrote a story with a similar theme – a man finds out he’s not who he thought he was – but I couldn’t consumate the relationship. In fact, in December 1996, after months of writing, I wrote a sentence that now drives me.

“By the end of 1997 you will finish your book and be a writer.”

The reasons why are moot. By the spring of the following year, I broke my resolution. There was an argument. There was a garbage can. There was a break up. The novel was history.

That episode is influencing my current state. It’s the engine that’s revving me to finish this book. What’s also happening now, is maturity, undeniable support from my wife, and, well, excuse my bravado, this novel is pretty damn good.

There are times when I want to quit. The process of fine tuning something so personal is how insanity should be defined. I’ve had to be talked off the ledge of deletion more than once. There are times when I wonder why I’m even doing this.

I thought about the broken promise to myself from 15 years earlier, yesterday, as I sat in a hospital awaiting word on a relative’s health condition. When good news arrived, I relaxed a bit and thought about what was important in achieving my goal.

I’m staring at these notebooks as if they were a house of cards. I hope I don’t pick the wrong one.

I’m lucky to have a wife that lets me have a girlfriend. These crazy robots aren’t going to publish themselves.

****blogger’s note***

This is my personal response to Write On Edge’s:  RemembeRED – Unfulfilled

Champagne Flute

In the morning, the bubbling glasses of champagne were flat and warm, scattered around without exuberant laughter and anticipation of the New Year filling the room with hope.

Welcoming in the new year brings resolutions and goals to the forefront of people’s minds; resolutions are written in secret or shouted from rooftops or proclaimed pointless.

Whether or not you’re clutching a scribbled copy of something you wrote at 11:55 p.m. on December 31st, it seems likely that, at some point, you set a goal for yourself that wasn’t realized in exactly the way you expected.

This week we’d like you to write a memoir piece about an unfulfilled goal or a broken resolution, beginning with the words, “I knew what I wanted”.

The word limit is 400 words.

 Today’s song is from the great Radiohead. It’s about an affair. It doesn’t end well. Hope mine has a better fate. Here’s House of Cards.

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17 responses to “House of Cards

  1. Cool song, and I just wanted to say that you’re one of those people that I’m going to be so happy for WHEN you publish your first book. I know it will happen for you, and I’ll be smiling when it does. I’ll even be able to say, “I ‘kind-of’ knew him way back when.” Lol, Press on, my blogging friend. It’s all about the perseverance, right?

  2. Firstly, good to hear of the positive outcome at the hospital.

    Love your use of metaphor every time you describe your wip. It makes me feel like I’m spying on your love affair, which of course, only makes me want to know more.

    eden

  3. I cannot wait for you & her to make your first public appearance together.

    I have a mistress that I just can’t figure out how to say “no” to . . . but, she’s so incredibly shy that she won’t let me really get to know her. I need to work on this relationship.

  4. I notice that several of us have written about writing. I think ‘unfulfilled’ describes my hungry state perfectly. And yes, by all means, WRITE THE ROBOTS!! They need writing.

    Also, you ARE a writer.

  5. You’re lucky. My husband pretends to be supportive of my affair, but then pouts when I spend more time with my boyfriend than him. Good luck with your three-some and kudos to your wife!

  6. Hey Lance? You’re absolutely a writer. But go and publish those robots :)

    It’s a wonderful thing to be married to someone who supports your “other woman.” It can be tough when writing starts to dig in and take over your brain.

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