Caught one of these yesterday, all alone in the rain on Big Hunting Creek outside Catoctin Mountain National Park. As a chronically hapless angler, my efforts are generally rewarded just enough to prevent me from putting all my equipment on ebay. Fortunately, during the time I wasn’t catching fish, my subconscious was hard at work thinking about Pith.
That’s the title, for now, of the book I propose to write about the a year in the life. It was one of my eighth graders' vocabulary words around the time the idea was born, and seemed a good thing to shoot for. The heart of things is my subject, whether that’s the wood in the center of a tree when you’re building a dugout, or balancing roles as a teacher-mate-parent-child while going for for Natty Boards.
When I first wrote about this ("Page 1," December 31, 2008), I revealed good intentions and introduced my able guide, Andrea from Long Island. Since then, I’ve pieced together a twenty-six page proposal at her direction consisting of a summary, author information, target audience, competition, marketing and promotional opportunities, manuscript specifications, and an outline with table of contents. As well as an enlightening glimpse behind the scenes of book marketing, this was an excellent form of procrastination which allowed me to avoid, until now, the actual task of diving in.
The time has come. A “sample chapter” is required to complete the proposal. I’m leaning towards Chapter 2. Why not begin at the beginning? Part of my strategy is to build on “Certifiable?,” and Chapter 1 as I’ve sketched it out consists of more new material than Chapter 2. And, frankly, recycling seems less daunting.
Renovation might be a better way to think of it, actually: this certainly won’t be blog-warmed-over. More like emotion recollected in tranquility. Yesterday’s stream time was a good start, and I’ve got the house to myself right now. So, here I go. One wild brookie is all I ask for.