Reboot

Sometimes, when I’m writing a story, things get complicated.  There are too many characters with too many individual storylines, all treated with equal importance and given extensive amounts of backstory because, well, they’re my babies.  And it’s more than okay to have a big world in your head full of rich characters.

But when my story about a serial killer and her love interest being kidnapped gets hijacked by the appearance of the love interest’s mother and five siblings and their kids, the serial killer’s FBI task force, the love interest’s old military unit, the serial killer’s little brother and his girlfriend, the serial killer’s mentor and his love interest and his sister’s seven children… it’s time to take a step back.  I put everything I have into a folder marked with a label like “old stuff” or “world building”.  Then, I reboot.

Rebooting means that I take a look at everything that was ever put into the story.  I consider the absolute basics of the story.  Then, I delete everything I don’t need.  Oh, sure, I keep records.  After all, even if they don’t end up in the book, they’re still my babies.  But there is a reason that the details on them are labeled “old stuff” or “world building”.

In this story of the serial killer and her love interest being kidnapped, the only truly essential characters are the serial killer, the love interest, and the villain who kidnaps them.  Sure, the love interest’s family made him who he is.  Yes, the serial killer’s mentor taught her essential skills that she needs to survive.  And absolutely, the serial killer’s FBI task force is important to the world and to the characters… but the story doesn’t need them.  If I’d never thought them up, I would still be able to write my story about the serial killer and her love interest being kidnapped.

If, however, the story still doesn’t work, still requires dozens of characters that do little more than clog up the narrative, it’s time to abandon ship and re-label the file “Discontinued”.  It would do me no good to waste any more time on a story that refuses to resolve itself.

This is not a political commentary.

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"Don't be afraid it won't be perfect.  The only thing to be afraid of, really, if that it won't be."—Company

—L

So I write

I want to be a professional writer one day.

I'm about a third of the way through my third rewrite of my second reworking of my novel.  It's hardly my first.  I have three or four other stories constantly writing and rewriting themselves in the back of my head, an archive of ideas, and a whole slew of research materials.

So, right now, I'm an amateur writer.  But I am a writer.

After an intense conversation with my mother, I've decided to revive this blog.

Seems a bit unrelated, but really, I don't think it is.  I've observed a lot of other writers who write blog posts.  I don't know; maybe having a place to rant about the troubles of storywriting will help me be more productive.  Or let off steam.  Or something.

Or maybe I just want a place to ramble about the research I've done and the books I've read.

Or maybe I want to bond with other writers out there.

Either way, I want to make progress on my novel.  So I'll write.  This is writing, words from my head that go out into the world and are read.  I don't make money from this, but writing is my first love.  I wonder if there will ever be a romance more enduring than my long-standing marriage to the written word.  We have our problems, but not a day goes by without writing in my mind and words on my pages.

So I write.  I live and breathe and sleep and eat and bleed words.  I wonder sometimes how other people live without characterization and grammar and rhythm and rhyme and love triangles and dictionaries and swords and sorcery and love and death and why and how and when will it end and worlds in my head and whole lives lived before my eyes, and I think to myself that no one could possibly feel fulfilled without words.

I am a writer, and this is my blog.

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"Can you imagine what I would do if I could do all I can?"—Sun Tzu

—L