“When are you going to stop writing about your book project and move on to other subjects?” Earl asked me this morning. “You’re an intelligent woman, and I want to read your opinions on other issues of the day.”

I pondered this question and imagined that other readers, who might not be at intimately acquainted with me as Earl is, would have the same reaction. My first thought was that I should accommodate those complainers in order to guarantee readership down the road.

But my second thought was that I blog mostly for myself, to keep me honest about writing every day; and, if I give in to public whim, then I could be writing about things I have no interest in.

So, once I have the book project out of my system, I promise to be current, anti-establishment, and — from time to time — witty. Until then, please bear with me while I revel in the accomplishment of having written a novel, albeit one that needs revision, against great odds.

Try it some time, and you’ll see what I mean.

For the past month I had to write approximately 1,667 words a day to stay on target for writing a 50,000 word novel in one month. It took a while to get the rhythm of it, to figure out what one could say in 1,667 words, and to allot the hour to two hours it took, depending on whether my creative muse was cooperative or not.

Toward the end, I found I could write for two or three hours at a time without becoming distracted. And, in the end, I managed to finish my novel — which I’ve decided to title Secrets –two days early. Now I’m back to blogging.

But I already see that it will take another adjustment, because there is no way to write 1,667 words in ten minutes. There is no time or space for lengthy expositions or scenic descriptions. There is no plot development or character development either.

There is just one main idea to put down, flesh out, and come to some conclusion about. It’s a completely different format, and I must admit I feel rusty. So bear with me a little if I become long winded and you begin to wonder where the story is going. Or worse yet, if you yawn along the way.

I hope to keep those yawns to a minimum.

Tonight my sons and I held a conference call to celebrate our mutual achievement of writing a novel in a month. I don’t mean one novel that we wrote together; rather, I mean three novels that we each wrote individually while supporting our collective effort.

It was a worthy endeavor; and, at project’s end, Kevin was sipping champagne, I was sipping Absolut, and Keith was promising to tie one on later.

It just goes to show that writing a novel can be a doable project, if you set your mind to it.

This is the third book I’ve written. The first took about five years, with an essay here and an essay there. I ended up publishing it with First Books, but I can’t say it garnered me a great deal of royalties.

The second took about two years; and it won a contest prize but never saw the light of a publisher’s contract. So, given that I’ve put the least amount of time into this current novel, I feel optimistic for its future. I also feel the concept of “No Plot, No Problem” has merit. And I’d like to do it again.

That said, the next task is to edit my one-month novel and turn it into something even more marketable than it is today.

One week from today my son Keith and I embark on the Great American Novel Experiment. What this means is that both he and I plan to write separate novels, at least fifty thousand words apiece, in the space called May. With thirty-one days at our disposal, that’s approximately 1613 words per day, rain or shine. Inspired or not.

I’ve told Keith that my chapters will be short, since I’m used to writing in ten-minute increments for this mini-essay column. Basically, it will be a challenge to write what amounts to a chapter instead of a verse.

At the same time, I’m looking forward to it since I’ve written one novel already. I entered in a contest and won an interview with a potential publisher. But my novel didn’t even pique his interest, must less his pocketbook. (I have written and published a collection of personal essays too, but that’s not the same.)

This experiment of writing a novel in a month originated with Chris Baty who wrote the book No Plot, No Problem. Baty’s premise is that many people have novels buried deep inside them, novels that are screaming to see the light of day. But their authors procrastinate, waiting for the perfect time, seeking the gentlest muse, arguing that they’re not quite ready to sit down and begin.

Baty’s argument is that there is no perfect time, that beginning is what it’s all about. You must sit down and write, write, write. Don’t edit. Don’t analyze or criticize. Just write. Your inspiration will come. Your characters will perform. Your plot will emerge. So Keith and I are putting Baty’s premises to the test.

We’re putting ourselves to the test too.