I have started to hit a big point in the second act now, which necessitated some research and some of that was upsetting to me, a thing that happens in other parts of the world that I cannot find a single justification for. We all have those practices or beliefs that we look at and it locks our brains up with disgust or horror. This background detail would warrant a book in itself but here, it’s allowed me to define a character in a way that reflects the main themes of the book.
Sometimes I actually think I know what I am talking about.
Bit of a restless day yesterday, did some editing on Until She Sings and at this stage, there’s merely nuance to contend with, chores inbetween and posted a story here that has been well received. The main thing yesterday, as it is every day, was advancing Lawful Evil another two pages and keeping in mind the structure.
It’s not an outline to follow, it’s a guide to keep me moving forward and to know where the next beat needs to go. It is a way of showing respect to the form and genre that I am working in, and giving the reader what they want.
Just, perhaps not in the way that they expect. I’ve found that a lot of attempts to subvert are affectations, rarely as clever as they believe themselves to be and receive muted feedback. I’m not subversive or iconoclastic in the slightest, because to me that weds me to the opposition and puts me in competition with it. I am only in competition with myself, I push myself forward and will happily help others if they need it. I view writing as a gift that requires development and self awareness, it makes me kinder to books that I don’t enjoy as much because I know what effort goes into it. I used to indulge in the recreational bitterness of insulting popular books but in truth, it doesn’t make me any better to disparage something that other people enjoy. I live and let live, I have preferences and boundaries, tenets and strengths which are mine and I don’t impose them upon anyone else.
I love the process of writing, even these spacious days where there is only the work without the reward, because the work is the reward. I can write, so I write. I’m not crippled by physical or mental health issues, sure I get up a bit earlier but that’s my choice and it means that I produce work every day. I used to be afraid of it, I probably regret not pursuing this sooner but then I wonder if I would have been saying or writing anything of worth, seeing as my life experiences inform my writing indirectly. I spent more energy and took on more grief not doing this because I was afraid of not being perfect, of not deserving this, of not knowing the secret password to Writer Land.
There isn’t one. It starts when you finish things, when you risk rejection and turn down things because you’ve got writing to go.
So, thank you for reading. If you have comments or questions, please do so.