It's All Connie's Fault

Connie, Connie, Connie, what have you done to me?

I had lunch with my friend, Connie, last week. As she’s a fellow writer, we bounce story ideas off each other, share the woes when are stories go cold and basically share our experiences trying to put words to paper (old fashioned concept, I know).

I started a new book last January, and it went cold on me, dead and buried cold, for months. Actually the story was still there, but I was struggling to get it out of my brain and into something concrete.

Just before our lunch, I began working at it again. But, I didn’t have the story line well thought out, didn’t know what the end game would be. Not my usual approach to writing.

I thought the story was about a woman struggling to find her way after a terrible accident. I planned that she would meet a child that gave her back her love of life, etc. But was that enough?

My friend suggested a romantic interest. Everybody loves a Happy Ever After kind of story. But I was almost 20,000 words in, and the unwritten rule for romances is that the lead characters should meet, and the groundwork laid for the romance, by page ten. Oops.

I thought about it for a few days. The romantic lead she had suggested was another character’s brother, and I saw that could work, with some changes and major adjustments.

I made a copy of what I had written, and went back to the beginning. I introduced the brother’s character and have spent days and days, writing, rewriting, doing some cut and paste, some delete. I have played and played with what was and have now reached a point of going forward, with  28,695 words written.

This was hard work, and a real challenge. But, I think it might have been simpler to start over at the beginning, but what a waste not to use what I’d already created.

The brother’s name is Luke. Thanks Connie, for bringing this tall dark and handsome man into my life.