"Away We Go"

I happen to be writing a mystery about a man who's been faithful in his marriage for twenty-two years, but after a passionate misstep one evening in Las Vegas with an acquaintance, he finds her dead in the morning. Someone murdered her, and the police think it's him.

As I'm writing, I'm exploring what relationships are, what it means to be less than perfect, and what redemption might be, if it's possible. The story, like some forceful dream, arose as I wanted to try my hand at a mystery. Literary fiction, while it's been a pleasure to write, is one of the most difficult things to market. Ask my agent. I love a good mystery, though, and I knew I'd learn a lot trying to write one.

As I've been writing, the misdeeds of many Republicans recently in nookie-related news--Governor Mark Sanford of South Carolina, Senator John Ensign of Nevada, Senator David Vitter of Louisiana--have consumed the media. To be fair and balanced, before them came Democrat Bill Clinton. I'm often amazed at how the universe feeds any given story I'm writing. While my protagonist isn't political, he's confused, just as is Governor Sanford who said in his press conference that he's "a little vulnerable because this is ground I have certainly never covered before."

(One of my former professors yesterday surmised that Sanford's problem is that he must not masturbate-why have all the affairs otherwise? That made me wonder if most affairs are a way to reach sexual satisfaction without the supposed shame of autoeroticism? David Carradine apparently didn't have that problem-but he showed us the danger, there, too. If one's lover says "Not tonight, honey" too many times, does that play with the forces of Kracatoa? Hot lava must flow?)

My thoughts on relationships took a turn last night as my wife Ann and I had a date night, and we saw the film Away We Go, directed by Sam Mendes (Revolutionary Road), from a script by real-life spouses Dave Eggers and Vendela Vida. The story revolves around Verona (Maya Rudolph) and her boyfriend, Burt (John Krasinski). Verona is pregnant, and when Burt's parents announce they will be in Belgium for two years, the couple decides to visit their siblings and friends in search of a new city to live in. 

What's particularly interesting about the film is that at no point does one question Verona and Burt's relationship. We like them. The friction and drama isn't between them but with other people. Neither Ann nor I could think of another recent film where the relationship at the center was so strong and sustaining. I take that back, the gruff and isolated Carl Fredricksen in the animated film Up flashes back to his relationship with his wife, which was also rich and rewarding--but she's dead.

In other words, Away We Go isn't about boy finds girl, boy loses girl, boy gets her back, as the usual formula brings. Instead, this couple feels asleep at the switch, that they are middle-aged f---ups who should have been more serious about life and adulthood earlier. As they meet a variety of parents, they come to reevaluate themselves.

I want future readers of my yet-to-be-finished book to reevaluate themselves, too--not in over-the-top sequences as Away We Go sometimes has, such as scenes with Allison Janney and Maggie Gyllenhaal who are particularly toxic parents with their husbands. Rather, I hope that amid a tight mystery, moments of real relationships emerge, as Away We Go has with a couple in Montreal.

I don't know what my book is until it's done, but the challenge is wonderful. And so is my own marriage, which brings many pleasures and keeps me on my toes.