Undesirable (the working title, I'm not in love with it yet) sits at 424 pages long without removing all the stuff I intend to once I realize my word count goal. I am in the 3rd of 4 sections and have been revising diligently every night this month except for last night (one of my children needed me so I was forced to shut the computer off well before my usual midnight deadline). I have added 12,000 new words so far (my Nanowrimo goal is 15K) and I have slashed at least that amount.
All that's left now is to fill in the scenes that I glossed over in November. And boy are they doozies! Having finished all the backstory, setting, character development, etc... what I have let to write is the conflict. Which, it turns out, I'm not very good at writing. I cannot envision scenes of torture or death or mayhem... so I'm struggling with describing them.
So... in an effort to better my writing (and avoid the inevitable), I think I'm going to have to watch an episode of Game of Thrones tonight! ;)
Enjoy today's poem, I'm pretty pleased with it.
#23 - The Ballad of the Unfinished Novelist
It started so small, just
five years ago,
And idea that spread like
a weed,
Or like a young seedling,
It started to grow,
Writing filled in her,
some unanswered need.
She wrote it in spurts,
over the years,
Mid-life crisis, perhaps?
Perhaps not?
In spare moments,
With blood, sweat and
tears,
All that's left, one tiny
bit of the plot...
How does one kill off a
character,
Who's a fine make-believe
friend?
How does one kill off a
character,
The only thing in the way
of “The End.”
It's finally done, at
least the majority,
Long in planning and
longer to pen,
Babies were birthed,
Her job a priority,
The book completely
ignored, months on end.
The problem now is she's
become attached,
To every flawed
character,
And she's avoiding the
plan,
The one she once hatched,
That would wrap up the
story for her.
How does one kill off a
character,
Who's a fine make-believe
friend?
How does one kill off a
character,
The only thing in the way
of “The End.”
She likes to write scenes
that are fluff,
The happy, the funny,
romantic,
But she also avoids,
Puts off everything
tough,
Conflict, apparently, not
her best schtick,
JK Rowling can kill, she
killed off a Weasley,
And that other “Martin”
author can, too,
Old Yeller, Charlotte,
They make it look easy,
For other writers, the
death tolls accrue.
How does one kill off a
character,
Who's a fine make-believe
friend?
How does one kill off a
character,
The only thing in the way
of “The End.”
No one wants to read
claptrap anymore,
Where the prince, at the
last moment, rides in,
And swoops in to save,
From certain horror,
Unless you're a fan of
the ol' Harlequin.
So sometime this week,
she'll just have to do it,
Bite the proverbial
bullet and then,
Sit down and flesh out,
All the conflict unwrit,
And finally tie up all
the loose ends.
How does one kill off a
character,
Who's a fine make-believe
friend?
Just do it, you sap,
it'll suck of you don't,
It's the only thing left
'fore “The End.”
- Laura Freeman -
April 23, 2013
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