Now Leaving Texas...

Remember that journey through "the big Middle" I started a while back? The part a fellow writer (Laraine Herring) compared to driving through the state of Texas? The part I thought could take several months? I believe that I crossed the border today!

Sure, I may have to drive back through a few of the smaller towns, get a closer look at the scenery, and explore a few more side roads to fill in any remaining gaps. And yes, the bridge was out in Crisis City (not quite ready to write that scene yet), so I took a detour for now and vowed to come back in a few days or weeks. But I have officially passed from writing the middle section of the book into writing the final quarter.

In writer's terms, there is a threshold that happens after a major energy marker in the plot. One such threshold occurs after the crisis happens. It marks the end of the middle -- or the beginning of the end. Over the past couple of days, I wrote several of those threshold scenes in which Gabby reflects on what has happened, evaluates her choices, and gathers the resources she will need to make it to the climax and successfully transform. In other words, she has to take everything apart in order to put the pieces of herself back together again.

I suspected it was time to go there when I hit a pocket of resistance on Thursday night and had to fight for every word that made it on to the page. So on Friday morning, I reassessed my own situation and realized that yes, it was time to take another leap -- right into the novel's crisis. Or maybe directly to the resulting fallout.

Strangely, in the midst of all this, I couldn't help but notice the parallels between where Gabby is finding herself at this point in the novel and where the Republican party found itself after the election (a crisis of sorts for them) this week. And of course, what do they (Gabby and the Republicans) do first? Blame everyone but themeselves for what has happened...

The difference is, I get to have some say in Gabby's ultimate transformation. Too bad real life narratives are a bit harder to influence.

So long, for now, Texas!

(NaNoWriMo word count at the end of day 10? 19,607 words.  Yee-haw!)

Have Map, Will Travel!

Presenting...THE PLOT MAP! In miniature...

The Mock-up Map

...and fully grown.


The Real Thing

Yes, after two weeks of intensive plotting -- guided by Martha Alderson, The Plot Whisperer, via her book of that name -- I now have a 6-foot, color-coded map of the novel that will guide the rest of this journey -- through Texas (the middle) and beyond.

Turns out that the scenes I have already drafted make up not just the first quarter of the novel, but most of the first half, plus a few scattered scenes from the last half. Which means that writing 50,000 words for NaNoWriMo in the month of November would get me to the end of a rough draft of the whole novel, or at least very close.

So count me in. Starting at midnight (now), it's full writing speed ahead!

A Story is Born

from a notebook entry at 5:24 p.m. yesterday after a particularly satisfying work day:

After an exhausting week of mucking through swamps, I found myself fully in the flow today as I worked at my writing desk. Some days I get a taste of that ease, but it has been a while since I have had a day of feeling immersed in it. A day where everything comes together with little or no struggle. Where synchronicities fall like rain. The image that came to mind mid-way through my post-lunch walk was one of scattered pieces of matter swirling around a dark, chaotic universe suddenly and unexpectedly coming into alignment, as if some mysterious force were pulling them together into one big harmonious dance.

It feels so good, this balance of work and play, that I don't want to leave my desk. I just want to bask in this universal flow some more.

What do I have to show for it? A plot line with the story's key energetic markers and a clear idea of where the scenes I have written so far fit into that sequence. I know it doesn't sound like much, but it is. The direction (map) I have been longing for, praying for, seeking and stalking for months has emerged from what I thought was a collection of random scenes.

Today, Gabby was looking over my shoulder and walking by my side, rejoicing right along with me at every discovery.

Is this the birth I have been waiting for?

Gabby was born January 19, 2010 -- the day she first introduced herself to me in a notebook entry -- but her story was born today!  And it was pure magic.

Texas, continued

Turns out Texas (see 9/11/12 post) has some interesting and unexpected landscape features. One of them showed up in my dreams the other night as a swampy marsh (or maybe a marshy swamp) that I was wading in up to my knees, trying to find a way out. When I woke up, I didn't understand the symbolism at first, wasn't sure whether it connected to my writing at all, but after this morning's morning pages, there was no doubt. At least not about that.

Yes, for the past several days (or weeks?), unbeknownst to me, I have been wandering around this natural wonder of the emotional landscape, which we shall call The Swamp of Doubt. While I could get back in the car and just drive around it, hoping to leave it behind, I am pretty sure that is not the way to move on. Writing has a sneaky way of bringing up issues or feelings that are best addressed right now, because if ignored, they may turn into permanent roadblocks, or at least irritating energy blocks.

No doubt my main character, Gabby, is going to experience plenty of doubts as she adjusts to life in a new place. Transitions and new experiences -- any kind of change, really -- open the doorway to doubt. How could they not? Which would explain why I keep running into doubt at every turn lately, including in my writing life.

One thing I know for sure? Doubt's got all of the questions and none of the answers. Questions like: Can I construct a plot that works? Do I have enough ideas to sustain a plot? Will those ideas come together in a coherent way? Do I already have the knowledge I need inside or do I need a teacher to show me how to do this? And those doubts, if left unchecked, spiral into a whole universe of other doubts.

The antidote?
Trust.
Belief.
Faith.

And, perhaps, a better map.