“If you love something, let it go…”
In all my years of writing, I never experienced writer’s block. In fact, I used to poo-poo the very idea of writer’s block. But, as with any force of nature that is refused, like the Evil Fairy in Sleeping Beauty, it comes after you.
As far as the writing goes, I had big plans for 2015. But the projects I was striving wrap up in 2014, kept falling into chaos. I simply wanted to write something short, and the stories found more twists and turns, the characters more to say, and they would not be contained. On April Fools Day, my computer crashed, and in May, I had to get a real job — the first full-time job I’d had in years. This job had the added benefit of a 90 minute commute in both directions. On the weekends I had to catch up on chores. I had to give writing a rest.
Visited by the Dreaded Blockage
In late October 2014, I published The Shadows. I was very excited about this book. It has great series potential. I really planned to have the second Poppy Farrell Mystery out in Spring of 2015, and was working very hard on it, when I hit a plot sng. I still have not resolved this.
The problem seems to be that, in The Shadows, Poppy was the driving force, backed up by her roommate, Clair. In Taller Than Our Souls, the sequel, she and Clair are joined by Tom and Rupert who they met at the Halloween Party in The Shadows. Poppy needs to carry the weight of the story because it is her series, but now the others need POV’s as well. The story also has more layers. I am sure this tangle will be straightened out, but for now the book simmers on the back burner being stirred by the Muses, or maybe the Furies…
Taller Than Our Souls boils down, as does the Prequel to The Lady in Yellow that I promised readers last winter. I planned for this book, Sovay, to be a shorter work, a novella, for fans of The Lady in Yellow, but it got long. While working on this book, I was also dealing with recovery from an accident, and getting to know the most wonderful man on the planet who cheered me up so much that I was whisked away from the dark mood of the book into Munchkinland, or something. Since Sovay is a horror story, the climactic scene must be horrific. I was unable to go there. Nor did I want to
I had the same problem with Dark Reliquary. I am sure I will able to get back into the rightful morbid state soon enough, but in a different way….in a better way too, I think.
The other happy accident Has to do with Morna.
I had a book cover designed for Morna, but the story I was writing was about Lady Rowan. Morna, her daughter, did not appear until the second half of this book, and I had planned a sequel about her. This Celtic Tale of the Selkies, is quite literary, (which I have learned means that it probably won’t sell very well, even if it a a bit Game of Thrones in tone and the tragic trajectory of the plot) so I wondered if a sequel was even a good idea. I tried to get a good cover made for this book with the Selkie on the cover and was not happy with any of the results. People loved the Morna cover, however, so I thought I’d just use it anyway, even if Morna came in during the second act.
Then it struck me! Change Lady Rowan’s name to Morna and Morna’s to something else. The effect on the story was amazing! The early pages of the book began shimmer darkly, various elements of description and character grew moody and poetic, the clash between reality and fantasy, good and evil, were heightened. Changing the protagonist’s name vastly improved the book! This is not the first time I have experienced the power of naming. In fact the entire story of The Shadows came to after I found all the names!
If I hadn’t had writer’s block, and cover-art block, I would never have had this lightning bolt of inspiration.
This book is in the polishing stage, by the way. So it won’t be long!
The Long Tale
So much in Indie writing and publishing is about speed of production because, more stock on the virtual shelf, means more visibility, which means more sales, which means more money. I can’t do it. I tried, but I am not a workaholic. I love to write, but there is nothing I love so much that I want to be chained to it 24-7.
When my computer crashed, I was able to stop listening to all the mega successful who only intimidated me, and the Indie Author gurus whose sole definition of success is how much money you make. I was able to get off the bandwagon and get back to writing the way I want to write: focusing on depth, layering of story, strongly motivated characters, imagination and language. My stuff is too literary to be mega-popular anyway, so what the Hey? I cannot write at the level I desire at top speed, or by taking speed to stay up all nigh while burning my brain out.
Do I want a career?
But I also want a life.