I’m still working on the Nights in Paris novel as well as the short film. I’m very pleased with the beginning of my next Colette chapter; it can be hard to know how to start a new chapter. It’s a bit like the daunting task of stuffing a duvet into its cover: you have a clear picture of the end result, but how do you know which corner to tackle first? I’ve taken a tip from the great master — or rather, great mistress — herself: Colette, of course.
Colette often begins her chapters with a conversation, or an action; in that respect, many of her novels are like plays. She acted on the stage for many years, and I think this second, theatrical job helped to hone her shark-like instinct when writing: straight to the point, never deviating, pared down to the absolute essentials. Reading her novels is like taking a masterclass in writing prose that is watertight and incredibly focused: I’m thinking especially of Chéri, Julie de Carneilhan, La Retraite Sentimentale, and Duo / Le Toutonier.
My latest chapter of Nights in Paris starts with Colette opening the door of the marital apartment, apprehensive and afraid of seeing her husband because it is the morning after the night before, and the night was spent with Missy… luckily I have some (dusty) memories of this kind of sordid melodrama, so while I’m writing I can relive the emotional turmoil… oh joy!
Par où commencer un nouveau chapitre? C’est comme empailler un duvet dans sa housse: on le prend par quelle bout?! On trouve la reponse en lisant Colette. Chéri, Julie de Carneilhan, La Retraite Sentimentale, et Duo / Le Toutonier sont des romans d’une précision admirable, dont les chapitres commencent souvent, comme des pièces de théâtre, en pleine conversation.
