I've been thinking today about a new idea I've had for a novel. Since I finished Citizen Kate, I find myself without a writing project to sink my teeth into, and I want to start, since work has been slow this week and I have the time. My problem, though, is that I have two plots featuring the same character and I didn't know which to pick.

I knew I wanted the book to be about a girl who loves to read, because I'd love to write a novel exploring my own love for reading, paying tribute to some of the books that have most shaped me. I took my character's name from my blog, Constance Reader. I have the idea of a big-hearted, imaginative, quirky girl who does things like wear kneesocks and listen to Juliette Greco on her hi-fi. Her apartment is a one-room studio with bookshelves taking up all the wall space. She lives in DC and works at either a library or a bookstore, and here is the final storyline I've come up with for her.

• One: Connie needs a date for her best friend's wedding. She makes a list of her top five romantic heroes from literature, and they are: Mr. Rochester, Mr. Darcy, Rhett Butler, Holden Caufield and I haven't decided on the fifth yet. Her all-time favorite is Gilbert Blythe (natch) but she doesn't include him on the list because she thinks he's too good to exist. Anyway, Connie sets about trying to find a guy who fits the profile of each hero. Then she'll date him, and see which one ends up being the guy for her, the guy she will bring to Alice's wedding. Of course, in the end, it ends up being Hugh, her longtime friend, whom she falls for in a most Gilbert-Blythian way.

• Two: Constance Reader is an aloof girl, something of a loner, who works in a library or bookstore (again) and has no friends, except for the ones she finds in books. One day, she finds on the shelves a handwritten manuscript that features a girl with her name as the main character, and the girl's story seems to be the story of her own life. Things start happening to Connie just as they've been written. Only the book stops before the ending, and so Connie sets out to find the author, and on the way she finds new friends and a chance for new love. But will she have the courage to write the ending to her own story?

At this point, I've written a few scenes that I like for the first, but overall, I don't think there's enough dramatic tension to sustain that premise for 300 pages. I think the second premise would be more successful, but I also think it will be more complicated and ambitious to write. The loneliness aspect could veer into dark territory if not handled correctly; the magical realism element will seem stupid if I don't think of a killer, and plausible, reason for it; and since I've planned scenes where authors and characters from literature interact with Connie as though they're friends, I worry that could make her seem psycho, if also not handled with finesse. Do I have it in me to make it work? I don't kid myself about my writing: I know I'm funny, and I know I can write authentic dialogue, but I'm fairly clumsy and I lack subtlty, which is probably why I chose to write in a genre that mostly eschews it. Sarah Waters I am not, probably because I lack the confidence for it. Although I have to say since the second agent wanted to see my MS I've been feeling better about that. One agent might be a fluke, but (even if nothing comes of this) two means that I am definitely on to something, right?

Speaking of reading and books, I am totally addicted to the Stieg Larsson trilogy and while planning my review I noticed that over at Constance Reader, I almost never review books by men. ??? I think before this, the last book by a man that I read was...The Inner Circle by T.C. Boyle, and that was back in the second week in May. It may not seem so long ago, but since I read about 3-4 books a week (if not more) it really is. And before the Boyle, the last male-authored book I read was My Man Jeeves by PG Wodehouse, back in March. This is slightly depressing to me, because I want my blog to be well-rounded. I want to be well-rounded. Although a part of me is slightly proud. I never planned to only, or mostly, read books by women; it just worked out that way. And I feel like I'm standing in solidarity with my SISTERS because of it. Women's fiction gets such a bad rap for being...well, all about women, for women, silly, insipid. It's harder to be a female writer than a male writer, and have your books appeal across the sexes. So I like to think of my current blog policy as a little affirmative action, though I am going to have to try and read some more dudes, I guess.