Chase's Book That He is Writing (this isn't the title of the book)
In which the author starts questioning his own sanity.
Hello. After a year of ruminating and sharing thoughts on this newsletter, I've decided to finally write my book. But I'm taking an unconventional approach—each week, I’ll share what I’ve written here. Whether it’s a single page or several, I’m hoping this process will keep me motivated and give you, my readers, something enjoyable to follow along with.
My hope is that this approach is as enjoyable for you, my core group of intimate readers, as it is motivating for me. I don’t know if I stand by using the word intimate there. I also just realized that I’m describing Wattpad so this isn’t a unique concept at all. It’s a thing that existed long enough ago that we got Fifty Shades of Gray from it. Anyway here are the first 2 pages.
Chapter 1: The Resistance
“Every fiber of my being does not want to start writing any of this.” Chase clicks into keyboard while sitting at a couch in his living room. He is so not prepared to write a book that he apparently could not even be bothered to set aside a creative space for this monumental undertaking. “At the same time, I have this deep sense of need to do it. These two forces, merging into one tumultuous cloud in my head that paralyzes me with creative inaction. The best way to handle this, I’ve decided, is to just start writing words down and let whatever this is going to be, just fall onto the page.”
It is a Saturday afternoon and the apartment is quiet. A 100-year-old building in Tacoma, WA that overlooks Commencement Bay and neighbors a high school that looks like a castle. The setting for the film “10 Things I Hate About You.” The views are incredible and Chase can see a sliver of each from his kitchen window. Otherwise, his window portraits into the outside world are full of Tacoma roads and neighboring houses across the street. But the view IS there should he decide to walk outside and go look at it. Sometimes that enough.
Often, a book will do a very good job describing characters so that readers can picture them in their minds, transporting you into this new and wonderful world. Chase is a human being and a straight white cis man. He has a full head of hair and a so-so beard. He should lose some weight and he’s 45 years old. However you picture that in your mind will suffice for this book. Fine, his eyes are blue and he can play the guitar kind of - so, he feels that makes him maybe cool a little? As your narrator, I can assure it does not do much.
Searching for distractions within view, Chase spies a pile of recent mail sitting on top of the shoe dresser by the front door. His wife insists that this piece of furniture is called a credenza but Chase is sure it is a shoe dresser. One of the envelopes seems to be shimmering. Almost like an item in a video game that is hinting to be examined to further the plot of the story. Chase approaches the mail stack and pulls this envelope from the pile.
“Chase” is written in place of the address.
“oh wait, Did Nicole leave me a note to find?” he wonders. “When did she do this?” Sitting back down, he tears open the envelope.
Chase,
Weird, I know; getting a letter from yourself from the future. We never figured out how to use semi-colons. But we do know that you spell “semi-colon” with a dash in the middle even though it would make sense to spell it “semi;colon” with a semi-colon in the middle. Must be your absolute dream to get a letter from your future self and I’ve spent roughly the first 7 minutes writing about semi;colons. No, you know what? They were right not to use that semi-colon in the middle.
I’m writing to say thank you for the effort and time you set aside to tell me that you’ve got me in the future, and us in the past. Caring about me when it doesn’t feel easy. We’ve got each other. You decided to pick up that pen again and write. Not for a purpose to blog or because you want to do more bits on stage, but because you wanted to write - anything. We write. It’s what we do. I’m loving it. I don’t want to give away what we’re doing with it (because I don’t know.) Your writing could be currently paying for my present or you could just be having fun playing in creativity again and I feel fulfilled because of it. Which means you are feeling it too. The important thing is that I still haven’t stopped what you started up again. Thank you for not giving up on me. I love you, man.
Without disrupting the timeline or altering the outcome of my existence somehow (I’m not really solid on the science of what I’m doing), let me help you the best that I can from the future. That thing that you might be worried about or anxious is happening, it’s fine. Whether it happens or doesn’t. You are okay, Chase. It’s all going to be fine. The pressure of the world is not on your shoulders or your fault. You just keep writing about things. And don’t stop talking to David. Keep having family dinners and if you still can - CALL YOUR DAD.
Alright, I gotta get going, we’re still using the bus.
Love;
Chase
Well that was nice a thing for Chase to find and really gets the juices flowing. You know, the word juices. This is going great. Freeing himself from distractions, our author finally begins keying in the words to a story that has been dwelling in his soul for too long.
An entire book’s worth.
Until Next Week
Woah, yeah what an enticing way to end today’s post. I wonder if Chase (in the story) will ever get this book of his done? I also wonder if Chase (me writing this) will ever get this book about Chase (from the book) writing a book done. Is anybody going to want to read this?
Don’t answer that.
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