The Eleanor sketches are a series of dry runs -- character exploration, plot studies, location tryouts, etc. -- for an as-yet-untitled novel that I am currently writing. Learn more »

what gives

This web site is home to an ongoing collection of sketches written for a novel that I have not yet begun to write. Character research, test runs of plot arcs, et cetera. This is me, getting to know my characters, the most important of whom is Eleanor Witt.

The story is a simple one: Eleanor, when she was just fourteen, suffered a tragic accident, ended up in a coma for a modest period of time (I'm thinking maybe ten, eleven days ought to do it), and while unconscious, has what I can only describe as a spiritual experience. She believes that during this time in the dark, she had a conversation with God, and this so changes her life that, upon waking, she spends the rest of it attempting to find a way to duplicate the experience.

That's the nutshell, and as much detail as I'll go into for the time being. The sketches -- or chapters, for lack of a more appropriate term -- will pretty much fill in the gaps here and there, and maybe create entire train wrecks of plot holes -- which is absolutely to be expected, since I'm jumping all over the map in terms of location, chronology, et cetera. This isn't meant to be a linear narrative by any stretch. Like I said: these are just experiments, test runs.

about me

My name is Jason, and I'm your average writer making a living designing web sites. My other home is deeplyshallow. If you've a mind to, you can email me.



dreaming of falling
marvelous descent
a conversation
the colors
huffnagle island
a hundred million
sixty-six stories
anyone earthbound
a girl named eleanor
a route obscure and lonely
a certain stillness
this is jack
wide flat lands
going home
girl unscrewed
slow rehabilitation
twenty-three stories
a far-off point
fifteen years quiet
a one-beer fella
luminescence
one-sided conversation
hearts big and stupid
nineteen seventy-eight
first light
a hundred years
too long to stop now
plainswept
a widower in training
spies and assets
thirty years and then some
leaping over couches