Insert head in vise, tighten

There are times when I laugh out loud as I am writing. I love those moments. But there are also moments when I am ready to scream in frustration, usually because I just can't find the "key" that unlocks a particular story I am trying to write.

My short story Overflow Parking finally came out this week in the premier issue of Mangrove Online. I say finally because the story was accepted for publication back in March. Technical difficulties have kept the web site offline until this week. Writing Overflow Parking was one of the most maddening (creative) experiences of my life.

Some background. Neil de la Flor, from the University of Miami, approached me to write a story for Mangrove Online, the web site he was developing which was to be the sister publication to Mangrove literary journal. "Sure," I said, "my pleasure." The Overflow Parking concept immediately came to mind as a story possibility for a lit publication like Mangrove. The core of that story had been in the back of my mind for over two years. Basically, I had this idea of someone driving back to the overflow parking lot of a major airport only to find a world of people who just hang out there. I really didn't know why they would be there or what my protagonist would do when he discovered them. I just knew I loved this idea.

So I tapped and I paced and I twiddled and I swiveled, all the usual nervous habits that help to jumpstart the creative process. I wrote a few quickie drafts and threw them away. I started to panic. I hadn't written under a deadline like this in a while, and I didn't like it one bit. But things weren't too bad yet. I hadn't come close to hitting rock bottom. That came on a Saturday a few weeks later. I had cleared my plate and dedicated the entire day to writing this story (I had promised it to Neil the following weekend). I had a pretty good idea where I wanted the story to go at this point. On that Saturday, I wrote for over six straight hours, stopping only to pee. At the end of the day, there was this horrifying realization. It wasn't working. I had written myself into a corner and there was no way out. I would have to scrap everything and start over. I lost an entire day of my life. And for what? I considered giving up. Screw it. Why bother?

But that night, as I was lying in bed trying to push thoughts of this awful day out of my mind, it hit me. The key to the story. The metaphorical light bulb. Finally, I had a workable idea. I can't begin to tell you how excited I was. So, now I went from not being able to sleep because of defeat to not being able to sleep because of the impatience of wanting to get started all over. On Sunday, I wrote all day again. This time, though, at the end of the day, I had my story. Well, a damn reasonable draft, anyway. I played with it, like a cat with a mouse between its paws, for the rest of the week, and turned it in on time.

Is Overflow Parking any good? I hope so. Could it be better? Sure. Would I write it differently if I was starting all over again? Don't make me cry.