In sitting down to write the novel, I decided to make it easy on myself. I d
ecided first that I wasn't going to try to write something near and dear to
my heart, just a fun story. That way, if I screwed it up (which was a real p
ossibility), it wasn't like I was screwing up the One Story That Mattered To
Me. I decided also that the goal of writing the novel was the actual writin
g of it -- not the selling of it, which is usually the goal of a novelist. I
didn't want to worry about whether it was good enough to sell; I just wante
d to have the experience of writing a story over the length of a novel, and
see what I thought about it. Not every writer is a novelist; I wanted to see
if I was.
"I can plump out," she said.
Tom, I was dumbfounded by what I was hearing. These creatures had traveled a
cross the stars, over unimaginable distances. And if what I was hearing was
correct, the success or failure of their trip was being placed into my hands
. It was a burden that I didn't want or even frankly that I understood. I as
ked Gwedif if what I was comprehending correctly what was being said.
I stalled for time. "I don't know if you noticed this," I said, "But I'm not
a Yherajk. I don't meld very well."