The birth throes of a novel in progress

Having finished the first draft of my last novel, The Heart of the Buddha, some eight years ago, I was nervous, yes, worried, about starting a new work. What if I had a writer's block, couldn't write as I did, or had simply lost it? And now, some six months after I put the first sentence down on my laptop, I am making good headway, moving forward, slowly most days, but surely. I find myself once more in the throes of giving birth to a new novel, painful and difficult at times, but loving every moment of it.

The pain is in the story that's unfolding, the sadness and pathos it invokes, to the point that I cry whenever I reread the all too poignant and emotionally charged scenes. Placing myself in some situations in the story reduces me to tears. And yet, they have to be written. 

A good number of chapters in my novel in progress are set in a Bidayuh longhouse. The difficulty is in the remoteness of the subject matter. Writing about the Bidayuh Dayak tribe of Borneo, their customs and lifestyle, in the ninetheenth century is a challenge, to say the least. My sojourn to a Bidayuh kampong, Ana Rais, during my visit to Sarawak in February was helpful, but could not satisfy my story needs, and I came away with many unanswered questions, some of which had not come up until I actually got down to writing those chapters involving my Bidayuh characters. I found myself treading on thin ice. How could I write about these longhouse natives from pre-colonial days when I had only been briefly acquainted with a twenty-first century Bidayuh kampong? Seeking a mentor who could be a source of reference on the Bidayuhs has so far been futile. Books on the subject matter are next to zero. I therefore have resorted to the Internet, to find information on the many aspects of Bidayuh life in the nineteenth century. And I have not been disappointed. There is a wealth of knowledge out there on my subject matter. But how reliable is this pool of information? When the first draft of the novel is completed, I will have to negotiate someone who would be able and willing to read the draft and point out any errors regarding the Bidayuhs. But that will be another problem. 

Suffice it to say that the novel is taking shape. The first draft of many drafts to come is two-thirds down. It is a labour of love. I am confident the fruit will be sweet, whenever it ripens. 

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