Can go awry.
Fact of life: Men should really ask directions from women. We know things. And, nine times out of ten we have the map. Or the GPS.
So. You know. We can get you there (innuendo not included).
Firstly, I must apologise. I was a bit hasty in announcing to the world that I would be moving *everything* concerning my books to tumblr. God knows I can’t figure out the silly thing and I didn’t stop to think that, maybe, others would be in the same boat. So, thanks to the publicise feature WordPress has so thoughtfully installed, all of my posts will be re-posted to tumblr so all can enjoy!
For those of you snickering in the back. Hush up. I’m allowed to make mistakes.
As for tumblr (my poor little thing) I’ll think of something clever for those who want to stay with that particular blog. Maybe a tumblr wide question. Something awesome that will stimulate the creative imaginations of others.
Maybe a question pertaining to the rather large arc I have going on with all of the stories. Create your own news article or something.
I don’t know. Give me a while. I’ll think of something.
Fact: books have a mind of their own. Especially when they’re being written.
You’ve heard it before, I’m sure, the author exalting the moment where the characters/story ‘just took over and wrote it/themself’. Then they laugh and then the interviewer moves on leaving the rest of us feeling like right assholes because that wonderful-all encompassing-moment of joy hasn’t happened to us yet.
Well. It happened to me last night. And I can tell you it is not all of the awesome the ‘acknowledgements’ page or that blog interview says it is.
It’s right tiring is what it is. Damned exhausting (maybe just a little exciting).
Remember those commercials? The ones with the car zipping by and that kid whispering Zoom Zoom for sixty or so seconds and the driver always looked moderately out of breath?
That’s about how I felt as my pen was trying to keep up with the thoughts in my head. I had to recycle half a stack of flash cards because the particular arc I was writing wasn’t working for shite but the one that popped in my head-the one I needed to write right then and there-was.
Dammit, I don’t have enough flash cards!
Crap, it’s nine-thirty. Okay, okay, if I just stay up a little longer I can get this part written if I work really, really quickly on it.
(Ten o’clock rolls around).
Damn! Damn! No! A little longer, I’m almost done!
Shit. What time do I have to go to work? I can stay up a little longer!
(I couldn’t. By this time I was lying to myself and fighting with the clock).
Thank God for momentary miracles. And a force of will that made me go to bed when I did. Granted, it didn’t do me much good, I’m still bloody tired but what are you going to do? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. God no. I just wish I had a week off of work so I could sit and get it all written down. All at once. That way I can have a look-see and really get a handle on what the new-ish arc is going to do for me. I don’t think anyone lets on just how much work the moment of brilliance is. And why should they? It’s the moment every writer wants, when everything falls into place and the story is just *there*. A few pints of coffee (or your preferred writing beverage) later, and you’re putting out the fire your pencil started from flying over the paper.
Or the computer screen.
You understand what I’m getting at, right?
Well, maybe I’m being unfair. Maybe other writers have that moment and it’s ‘ah-hah!’ and everything really *does* fall into perfection. For me, anyway, it’s not just about how fast I can get something down onto the paper, it’s thinking four or five chapters ahead as to what I had *planned* on happening and what might actually happen if I see the arc through.
have had this whole thing planned out! It’s right there, on my iPad! And I’m pretty sure it’s crying little app tears because of this one eensy little scene.
The ending has changed, certainly. So has the general feel of the plot. Not to mention that nice little ‘back cover’ I have posted up. It’s all gonna change, baby.
But, it’s a good thing. And, hey, that’s what first drafts are for, right?