Aug 09, 2010 12:38
Today marks the start of a new regime.
This week I must split my time between the Super-ooper-duper Secret Project X and formally planning a course I'll be teaching starting at the end of the month.
My normal wont (lovely word that) would be to start the day with the new project, while I was fresh and my energy was high. However, "normal" flew out the window with the arrival of SODSPX and I'm liking it that way. So as I contemplated how best to juggle my new priorities, I made the conscious decision to work on SODSPX this morning and devote the afternoon to course planning. Any extra time I have will go to SODSPX.
I made returning to the wip easier by sketching out the barest outline of what follows where I left-off.
For the first time--I think (it's possible I've forgotten an earlier instance)--I wrote myself into a corner yesterday. But rather than sitting there and spinning my wheels, which is what happened on SPIDER FINGERS, my only completed novel--I got myself out of it. The way it happened reminded me of nothing more than unravelling a piece of knitting to correct a mistake. If any of you are knitters, you'll recognize the comparison. (I no longer knit any more than I sew, because I find it too hard on my wrists to knit in addition to type or write.) When you're done, you've used the same yarn to correct the mistake that you used to make the mistake, and no one except you even knows there ever was a mistake.
Here's how the unravelling process worked in this particular instance:
Left Brain: Something isn't working here.
Right Brain: True. This is going to take the MC into something she needs to get into much, much later (as in possibly a different book).
Left Brain: Plus, it's just the MC and some technology. It's not advancing the story. It's not interesting. Make it interesting.
Right Brain: Right. How can I do that? Oh, add 2nd Character. Do that by going back to this point in the scene and have 2nd character do X instead of Q. Doing X opens up the possibility for Y and Z to happen and Y and Z mean a move toward resolution of one situation and complication of another, which is just what is needed.
So this morning I ripped out the stitches until I got back to right before point Q and continued the scene differently, with a piece that has a better fit.
To use a different analogy: This morning, instead of spinning my wheels and trying to power through the brick wall at the end of a dead-end street, I made a three-point turn and I'm off again, cruising down a parkway.
supersecret project,
writing