The Next Novel: the last novel?

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I made a four-year chart this morning — blocking off periods of time for drafts 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5, and then, boldly, sketching in: publish!

I've been anxious ever since.

I could well be turning 68 when The Next Novel sees the light of day. Will there be another novel after that? Will I continue to publish into my 70s? It's hard work — really hard! both in the creation and the publication — and, for the first time, I begin to see that I'm not on a path that extends into infinity.

I had an idea, once, that I would write shorter pieces as a grew older: novellas, short stories, poetry. There is wisdom in this. Perhaps The Next Novel should be titled The Last Novel ... or, at least, The Last Long Novel, for it seems, yet again, a huge subject to come to terms with, an insurmountable, impossible task.

But that feeling, I know, is Stage One. It's a mistake, I think, for a writer to look too far into the future. I know that once I begin, once I'm "on the page," all those anxious thoughts slip away and simple curiosity (and a good measure of delight) will take over.

Deadlines

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I met today with my wonderful agent, Jackie Kaiser, over lunch. Invariably I come away having committed to a deadline: and today was no exception. I told her my general (and, to my mind, vague) plan, which was to write the first draft of the next novel next summer, and to have a "viewable" manuscript the following year. In no time at all Jackie had excitedly caluclated a 2011 publication date, and suddenly, there it was: a target. It's not a bad thing: and, foolish as this may prove to be, I actually think it might even be possible.