I can tell by some of the dates on my files that I started this revision of Rhamiel’s Fall back in May. When it was still Uriel’s Fall. Which it has been since the beginning of its existence. And it’s not any more.
/weep
Anyway…Back in May when I started I got about 1/3 of the way in and got stuck. Like major hardcore super stuck. At the beginning of September I managed to power my way through the rest, but I’ll be honest I’ve always known (for like a whole three weeks now) that I half-assed the ending. The ending being the last 2/3 of the book in this case.
When I was in Denver I picked it up and started again. I started with the points I knew I’d slacked off. And then for some reason I couldn’t explain to myself, I went back and started at the beginning. This was last week sometime when I made the POV change.
I hit that spot yesterday where I’ve been stuck. And flinched because I knew it was coming. The middle 1/3 of this book has always been my least favorite part. I’ve always struggled with the scenes and why they exist and what I can do to make it less…boringish…
(I actually have a term for it and I compare it to a certain author who writes vampire novels but not Stephanie Meyer, before her, and all of the books that I’ve read of this particular author’s start to drag right around page 200 and I have a paralyzing fear that my stories will read like that too and it’s why I only ever finished Interview with a Vampire and none of the other books of hers that I started. And I tried.)/tangent
So I dreaded this point and hit it and slid right through the beginning of it. I’ll admit there are still some voice problems I need to address. But for some reason yesterday so much of the middle of the story clicked. And when I stopped writing for the day I was so psyched because I knew what came next and it’s not what was there before but it’s something I really wanted to add and didn’t know how and now I know how and…
Anyway…
I really wanted to share what I wrote yesterday, but in theory it’s a distinct spoiler…since it’s where Ronnie starts to really understand why – out of all the voice she hears (because she hears voices, but not because she’s insane) – one of them is distinct. Kind of like Sesame Street: one of these things is not like the others.
So instead…you all were awesome with your advice yesterday and I’m going to finally push myself to write Apathy’s Hero next month. And this is my inspiration…and not spoiler-y because it’s from my short story of the same name that’s been available in A Thousand Faces magazine for about a year now.
(And, um, strong language warning. My characters aren’t the most polite people when they’re upset).
Lexi whirled to face him, straight locks streaming in an arc before settling on her back again. Her eyes narrowed, exaggerating the puffy skin surrounding them. “Don’t touch me. Don’t talk to me, don’t look at me, just leave me the hell alone.”
“Whoa.” Her red-rimmed glare prickled Conner’s skin. He took a step back, raising open-palmed hands. “What did I do?”
“What do you think?” A growl rolled through her question, not hiding the crack in her voice. “I can take care of myself.”
A car door slammed in the background and he ignored it. “You’re welcome. You do know what my job is, right?”
She rolled her eyes and turned away. A sob floated through the air, fading into the passing traffic. Her keys rattled, scraping the red paint on her compact sedan several times before sliding into the lock. “Apparently not.” She took a shaky breath. “You never told me they pay you to be an intolerable ass.”
Anger nudged at the leash Conner kept on his power and he forced it back, a calming mantra repeating in his head. “The guy couldn’t keep his hands off you.”
She spun to face him again, keys rattling from their spot in the lock. Her voice raised an octave. “You didn’t have to break his fucking arm. I almost lost my job because of you. I can’t afford to lose my job.”
“What?” Guilt nudged the anger further into the background. “Why?”
“Because I’m obviously the problem, right? Some drunken asshole paws at me, you lose your shit, and it’s my fault. What about that doesn’t make sense?”
He swallowed. A hint of smoke brushed his skin, making him wish he hadn’t tossed his cigarette aside. “I’m sorry.”
Leaning back against her car she crossed one arm over her chest, resting the other elbow on top of it and burying her face in her hand. “If you’re sorry, leave me alone.” Her voice cracked again. “Please, just leave me alone.”
What kind of epic breakthroughs have you had recently? Share!
Oye. Breakthroughs and epic-ness are not my cup of tea lately. I suppose that’s because I don’t drink tea–but back on subject…
I have an incredible support network of people who want me to succeed. They want it so bad I can throw a horrendous sections at them, and they’ll brainstorm with me through the night on how to epic-ify the disasters. Thankfully one of those is my husband whose plot-driven focus complements my character-driven writing, and perhaps one day we’ll align and find awesomeness eh? Thank goodness for other people.
Figured out what a character is dreaming about when he mumbles in his sleep–a pivotal, PTSD-inducing event. It makes everything about him click, and that’s awesome.
I just figured out that maybe I’ve written two books in one… I’m starting revision tomorrow, so I’ll have to see what I can weed out, whether the two plot strands (or 3 actually) can all be sustained through the book.
Ee! I love it when things just work out all of a sudden, even after mooonths of aggravating blockage. Good luck with NaNo 😀