A while ago I described the epic destruction of my second novel What if your story is boring?. For starters it was a solid idea. Sadly the storyline was not.
It was tough to shred months of hard work but it is what it is. I am a firm believer we didn’t choose this line or work, they chose us.
Monday morning was a new beginning. I was cautious in a way one would be if they were stepping on glass. But it wasn’t the story I was cautious with.
I was cautious with myself.
Can I sell it?
If I believe in something I can sell it. Just ask Sears when I worked for them during my college years. I could sell you a hammer in your sleep. But there was something in this story that I couldn’t sell and the person I couldn’t sell it to was me.
There was a doubt I couldn’t shake. A feeling that my balance was a little off. The shirt was a bit too tight. The hat to loose. You get the idea.
The audience wasn’t buying it.
Some writers can get past this. They put their head down and plow through to the finish line. I envy you if you are the one reading this.
Unfortunately for me there’s no plowing. There is no knocking over boulders and there’s no finish line. If I can’t feel it I can’t write it.
When I completed my Monday morning writing things were different. There was no frustration. No regret. I started feeling the same way when I wrote book one.
It was exciting.
I could finally see the protagonist. I could feel him and in some ways I could relate to his troubles. That’s a good thing.
I saw him stumble and laugh when he was tossed out of his comfort zone. It didn’t take long for the confidence in me to come back. That tiny smile you and I have where we say – I got this.
I always understood the supporting characters but now I know where they fit. As we all know this is a puzzle we’re creating and sometimes we choose the wrong piece, or worse, the wrong box.
In this crazy journey sometimes the story chooses us. I’ve always envisioned pockets of stories floating around like clouds and every so of often they rain down on one of us.
That’s what this story has done to me.
It entered my mind years ago. A crazy scene that made me laugh. That little moment is all it took for the cloud of ideas to appear.
I am grateful it hasn’t given up on me.
It seems to know I messed up but a pat on the back and a promise for better days is all I really need. I am amazed at its patience.
This story reminds me of a best friend who looks past a bad moment and sees the big picture. They know what we’re trying to do and they’ll make sure we achieve it.
So here I go. Draft one all over again but this time it’s a much better feeling. I’m traveling along a far better road. The conversations are a whole lot livelier, the scenery a tad bit brighter.
I’m curious where this idea is taking me. It’s funny, I’m not the most patient guy in the world but times are a changing.