I’m still waking up. Damn Daylight Savings; damn it all to hell! Though it’s not like loosing sleep is a major inconvenience for me: no, that’s a way of life. I just sort of go on until sleep deprivation catches up to me, and I slip into a coma.
Until then, I soldier on.
Through all the diversions yesterday, I managed to still get out 1350 words on Transporting. I won’t say it’s difficult, but this chapter, the one before the big going ons go down, has been a bit difficult. I can say with some certainty that it’s a matter of feeling as if I’m getting everything right on this part, because I need it to be right.
There has been something of an issue here, however: even though I’ve imagined this chapter of the book for a very long time, the concepts was more like, “This happens, then this, then this, and . . . okay, final scene!” Pretty simple, right? It’s usually how I write; I get the scenes and fill in the blanks.
What I’d never gotten, however, was the primary trigger. The ultimate point of the scene–of the gigantic party that’s going on, and how events will affect a couple of the main characters–was always very clear. What wasn’t clear was what set it off.
And the set-off was going to set up the next two scenes to come.
So I took my time. I’d write, then do something. A couple of lines here, then chat with someone. A few lines there and I’d find something to look up. I do that at times; sort of float about with ideas on the brain, but I wait for one that’s going to reach out, grab my nose, and hammer me over the head.
Then, all of a sudden, it really hit me, like someone smacked me up with Mjölnir–
Everything was about appearance.
Really, that’s what the scene, the whole last half of the chapter was really about: acceptance and fear. Or fear and acceptance. And how you deal with the possibility that everything might be a failure, but you can’t let that keep you from trying.
As I’ve said, the prior chapter was a set up to this one. That chapter was all about having to face that one’s plans might not be as successful as you imagine. This chapter is really about not only knowing they might not work, but dealing with the idea that the future–your future–may not be what you imagine.
Which all leads to the next chapter, where one has to say, “Screw it,” and move ahead with your plans and your future, because as dim as the images of what’s to come may be, they’re all you got. You have to accept that you don’t know what life is bringing you tomorrow, but if you sit around, paralyzed with the fear that those things might not be exactly what you want for yourself . . . well, hell, girlfriend: you might be sitting on your pretty little ass for some time.
When you think about it, the plot line of my just finished scene–and the scenes to come–reflects something I said about writing two days ago. You can’t wait around to see what’s going to happen. You want things to work, then make them work. Sure, you might fail, you might fall on your ass–but what else are you going to do? Wait for it all to fall into your lap?
Sure, there are some things that are worth waiting for. But there are a lot of things that are worth fighting for. And if you take steps to work though things–like my character is going to do in the next scene–the maybe things are going to be as you like.
Party on, people, ’cause tomorrow is just a sunrise away.
Albeit an hour earlier now . . .
