The experience of writing a novel within the thirty allotted days of National Novel Writing Month was intense, and mostly good. I stuck with my rule that each segment needed to be written “on the day”, not in advance. Though as the month went on, and I got to know the novel’s world better, it became clear to me where the characters wanted to go, and I pretty much just happily followed them there.
The entire enterprise actually evolved from a single word. A friend, who happens to be named Lulu, had come up with the word “Smellephant”, which she thought would be a great name for a character in a children’s story. When I asked her, somewhat nonplussed, “What’s the difference between a Smellephant and an elephant?” she replied, as if it were obvious: “Because … he’s the Smellephant!”
And from that contradiction came the key insight that led to my writing this novel. For when is an elephant not an elephant? When he’s a hard-boiled shamus who follows his nose, an antihero who deeply resents being beloved as an elephant by children everywhere. A sort of “Babar Noir”.
Bits and pieces then dropped in from a multitude of random sources, like shreds of brightly colored cloth woven into a magpie’s nest. For example, at the start of the month a friend from the U.K. happened to mention the opening line of “Rebecca”, which made for a perfect beginning, since du Maurier’s dark classic is as far from a cheerful children’s book as you can get. Then exactly one month later, I managed to slip in a sly reference to Michael Nesmith, which is always a good thing. Other influences were too personal to mention here, but will be recognized by the individuals involved.
But ultimately the Smellephant exists because he has always existed, in the hopeful hearts of children everywhere, and in the dreamlike shadows of tales waiting to be told. Wherever there is a dame in need, or a crime in need of justice, you will find the elephant who never forgets. For what are dreams but memories set free? And as we dream ourselves awake, the Smellephant follows his nose.