I wrote unexpectedly today, which is always nice when it happens. I have to admit, though, I would've preferred my typical routine to what I went through today. Because of scheduling hiccups, car troubles, and holiday hours at UVU library, I ended up doing my writing at the in-laws' house.
Normally, I really enjoy being with my in-laws. They're incredibly supportive of me and mine, and my mother-in-law's a great cook to boot. But writing with the little boys scampering about is, generally, a losing proposition. Mix into that hectic mix trips down to the dealership (car troubles), skipping lunch (scheduling hiccups), and an overall difficulty in keeping my quiet corner quiet (holiday hour lamentations), it's a small miracle I produced as much as I did.
Today, instead of progressing the story forward--which, after pausing over the Christmas weekend, now has a bit of direction--I decided to move back to the approximate middle of the story and give some extra detail, things that I had before simply thrown in as exposition. Stepping back gave me one little gem that I hadn't anticipated: I figured out one of the things that never made sense to me. In the story, Nicomachus helps another character with his life goal. It, frankly, didn't make sense. How could this young kid (in his twenties at the time) 'pull in favors' to help out this other character? It hadn't been directly broached in the course of the story, so I just let it sit in the back of my mind. As a result, my inner storyteller managed to concoct a way of putting it together plausibly.
This happens to me as I write. There's a glaring problem with the story--a plot hole big enough to drive Optimus Prime through--and I don't know how to fix it. Obviously, rewriting will be an issue, but how much? Often there's a plot-dependent element to the gap (which is why it ends up in the story in the first place), so I can't just excise the problem piece like a tumor. It usually has to stay in. But, given 1) awareness of the problem and 2) time to think on it, I usually get something put together.
The best example of this that I can think of (outside of today's work) was during The Terra Campaign: Impetus, the first book I wrote after coming home from my mission. I had this character, Leife, who was supposed to befriend Christie and Samden, the two main characters. Originally, he just joined up because he was bored and wanted to see what these two would do. But he gets put into some dangerous situations pretty quickly. I asked myself, why would he stick with them? Why would he bother? One day, on the way home from some classes in the Education Building on UVU campus, I realized that I needed Leife to be imperiled before he meets the protagonist. So, in my head (as I don't think I ever got to the redrafting of this particular scene), I had him become indebted to the two. Rather than happening upon them and saying, "Let's go on an adventure--unless I get an arrow to the knee," I had Leife be trapped by some jackal-dogs who were about to eat him. With the help of Samden and Christie, Leife is saved and, as a matter of personal honor, begins to accompany them until he's paid off the debt.
It sounds kind of trite when I phrase it like that, but it's an example of how my mind will sometimes work out problems just by letting them percolate in the back of my muse somewhere.
Anyway, 3700 words down. I have fewer than 20,000 words to go to make my goal by April's end. I think I'll be able to do it!
Normally, I really enjoy being with my in-laws. They're incredibly supportive of me and mine, and my mother-in-law's a great cook to boot. But writing with the little boys scampering about is, generally, a losing proposition. Mix into that hectic mix trips down to the dealership (car troubles), skipping lunch (scheduling hiccups), and an overall difficulty in keeping my quiet corner quiet (holiday hour lamentations), it's a small miracle I produced as much as I did.
Today, instead of progressing the story forward--which, after pausing over the Christmas weekend, now has a bit of direction--I decided to move back to the approximate middle of the story and give some extra detail, things that I had before simply thrown in as exposition. Stepping back gave me one little gem that I hadn't anticipated: I figured out one of the things that never made sense to me. In the story, Nicomachus helps another character with his life goal. It, frankly, didn't make sense. How could this young kid (in his twenties at the time) 'pull in favors' to help out this other character? It hadn't been directly broached in the course of the story, so I just let it sit in the back of my mind. As a result, my inner storyteller managed to concoct a way of putting it together plausibly.
This happens to me as I write. There's a glaring problem with the story--a plot hole big enough to drive Optimus Prime through--and I don't know how to fix it. Obviously, rewriting will be an issue, but how much? Often there's a plot-dependent element to the gap (which is why it ends up in the story in the first place), so I can't just excise the problem piece like a tumor. It usually has to stay in. But, given 1) awareness of the problem and 2) time to think on it, I usually get something put together.
The best example of this that I can think of (outside of today's work) was during The Terra Campaign: Impetus, the first book I wrote after coming home from my mission. I had this character, Leife, who was supposed to befriend Christie and Samden, the two main characters. Originally, he just joined up because he was bored and wanted to see what these two would do. But he gets put into some dangerous situations pretty quickly. I asked myself, why would he stick with them? Why would he bother? One day, on the way home from some classes in the Education Building on UVU campus, I realized that I needed Leife to be imperiled before he meets the protagonist. So, in my head (as I don't think I ever got to the redrafting of this particular scene), I had him become indebted to the two. Rather than happening upon them and saying, "Let's go on an adventure--unless I get an arrow to the knee," I had Leife be trapped by some jackal-dogs who were about to eat him. With the help of Samden and Christie, Leife is saved and, as a matter of personal honor, begins to accompany them until he's paid off the debt.
It sounds kind of trite when I phrase it like that, but it's an example of how my mind will sometimes work out problems just by letting them percolate in the back of my muse somewhere.
Anyway, 3700 words down. I have fewer than 20,000 words to go to make my goal by April's end. I think I'll be able to do it!
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