What Hurts The Most
Over the last two days, having spent some time away from the novel, I've really enjoyed the down time. I've been catching up on my reading, and that's great. I've also been looking forward to the material I'm about to cover. However, there's this phenomenon that occurs when I write.
I'm a big picture kind of guy. I've planned this story out as five books and have created roughly 150 years of backstory for it. I've mapped out character arcs and twists and turns: all of it. But I've noticed, as with other projects I've worked on, there's a world of difference between planning stuff and writing it out. I recently killed a character whom I'd been planning to kill since I was a teenager. I'd had more than enough time to prepare for it, and still when it happened, I actually had to shut my laptop and grieve for a day or two before continuing to the next scene.
A few days ago, as I was writing a scene featuring a character who is easily one of the most dynamic in the series, I visualized a moment from the final book, a moment that, if not his final scene, would be very close to the end. I've always known how his character would end, but never had any real specifics. Finally, sitting there, it came to me. A confession and a revelation, a cry for help, just four words: "I got so lost." I don't often make myself cry, but knowing the five books of story behind that statement, I had to wipe my eyes. It made me really think about the places I'm about to take this story emotionally, places I might not be prepared to handle.
I'm specifically thinking of a character who is unabashedly my favorite, a character who is carrying a lot more darkness than anyone will suspect. I constructed him this way, quite deliberately I might add. His story is meant to be painful and traumatic and disturbing, but in unleashing that upon my readers, I've realized I'll first have to unleash that on myself, and it's a little scary, because it taps into feelings I realize I have avoided dealing with for a very long time."
I am honestly terrified of going there, so, of course, there is this gentle voice, a ghost in my head taking my hand and saying, "That's how you know you have to."
And it's right. I do. Dammit.