THE DAY
There’s this old show that really shows my age. (OTOH, the fact that I used to enjoy listening to Bob and Ray when I was a kid–in reruns, you understand–already ages me). Anyway, there was this guy, Art Linkletter, whose show I used to watch when I was a little older than the kids he interviewed, but he was right: kids say the darndest things. (And if seeing Bill Cosby gets your knickers in a twist, just fast forward the first twenty seconds.)
Anyway, so I’m writing, see, and I have this scene all mapped out; I’ve written the story beats; I know where things are going; I know what has to happen, who does what, blah, blah . . .
And then it all goes awry. Because a character decides to just come out with the darnedest thing, and that changes everything.
So there I am. I’ve gotten to this point where this character I didn’t expect to pop into being in that particular scene just did, and I’m thinking, Oh, Ilsa, what have you done now?
I think about taking it all back. I think about rewriting the scene, making it go the way I thought it should. Then I remember what happened at the end of Shadows: how the outline said that a particular scene and line should be the end of the book but how I knew it was wrong when I wrote it. I mean, I wrote the scene and the scene before that–but I knew they were in the wrong order. Here, I was done with the book; I’d finished, written The End, turned off the computer, walked away–and fretted all bloody afternoon and into the night. First thing next morning, I go back and reorder the scenes, making the penultimate scene the very last instead–and then I knew that I’d found the right ending.
I decided to trust myself here. Mind you, I don’t like it. I actually came to a dead stop, walked away, went and did errands, got my teeth cleaned–and then came back to do hand-to-hand combat, and dang, she’s still standing. In truth, this character is now proving to be VERY inconvenient. But if she needs to be there . . . if she just must have her say . . . who am I to refuse her?
So, for the moment…she lives.
I think I’m pleased. I’m not sure yet. Ask me in a week.
Gosh, I hate when characters just don’t behave.
WRITING OUT LOUD
Dark Side of the Moon
Day 1: 4326 Day 11: 2500 Day 21: 1800 Day 31: 745
Day 2: 2085 Day 12: 500 Day 22: 0 Day 32: 0
Day 3: 3011 Day 13: 1000 Day 23: 2700 Day 33: 4000
Day 4: 2652. Day 14: 3700 Day 24: 3500 Day 34: 2800
Day 5: 3210 Day 15: 5630 Day 25: 1500 Day 35: 4500
Day 6: 3450 Day 16: 1060 Day 26: 0 Day 36: 4800
Day 7: 0 Day 17: 130 Day 27: 0 Day 37: 0
Day 8: 2756 Day 18: 0 Day 28: 380 Day 38: 450
Day 9: 4580 Day 19: 3000 Day 29: 390 Day 39: 1000
Day 10: 2670 Day 20: 2600 Day 30: 380 Day 40: 2500
Day 41: 2600 Day 51: 1000 Day 63: 4800
*Day 42: 830 Day 52: 1600 Day 64: 3300
Day 43: 3600 Day 53: 2600
Day 44: 5000 Day 54: 3600
Day 45: 2600 Day 55: 3200
Day 46: 3000 Day 56: 4000
Day 47: 2800 Day 57: 1200
Day 48: 2500 Day 58-60: 0
Day 49: 1000 Day 61: 3500
Day 50: 4600 Day 62: 3000
Blog Post: 650
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What I’m Watching:
Finished the first episode of OJ. Not bad. I’ll certainly watch the next. Tried about five minutes of another series but decided, you know, I’m just not interested in yet another abduction story. Then I stumbled on The Worrwicker Trilogy with Bill Nighy. Smitten within the first ten minutes. I’m sorry, but sometimes the Brits really do know how to do television better.
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What I’m Reading:
The same; Operation Paperclip and The Pentagon’s Brain. But making only incremental progress. The problem is that I get so wrapped up in working, my brain is about as absorbent as a stone when it comes to reading at night, and I’m also pooped. But I must make time for this. The thing is…time spent reading is not time spent writing.
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What I’m Listening to:
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and more
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punctuated by explosions from munitions down at the Arsenal.
Well, it can’t all be sunshine and daisies, can it?
