For most of tonight's writing, A65 dropped down to 294 pages. But then I got through chapter 11...which still needs one more quick pass...and hit chapter 12 and BAM -- it shot up to 306 pages. I know I'm going to cut back on it, but it was startling.
That happened mainly because I added in the section where Adam wakes, the morning after the chaos, and takes a while to laze and remember and try to where he is. His memory plays into the story and reveals his family life and references his love of books and just wanders a bit. It feels good, here.
I hope no one is going to read this book thinking it'll be like Raiders of the Lost Ark. It's all about Adam and somewhat about Casey. Everything is from his perspective, so it's proving hard to put in any information about her without it turning into a lecture or soliloquy...but I'm slowly doing it. I took out any explanations she made about herself; I'm giving those to her mother, Patricia, in his next chapter...and maybe in the one following. We'll see how it goes.
No matter what, I'm getting it done. I'm probably being a bit precious by using this analogy -- but it's like the final detail work on a marble statue. What was it Michelangelo once said? He didn't so much carve a block of marble as release the figure within it. Something like that. I know I should Google it, but it's close enough.
I don't write, really -- I allow the characters to tell their stories through me. Sometimes that comes out easily; sometimes it's slow and torturous and damn near impossible to figure out what they want...until I learn their language and understand the meaning between and behind the words. I think half the reason I've had so much trouble on this story is, I wrote it as a script, first and it took the characters a while to let go of their images and allow me to see deeper than their surface. To trust me with their realities. And Jesus, how I love them all...
At least...that's my excuse and I'm stickin' to it...
That happened mainly because I added in the section where Adam wakes, the morning after the chaos, and takes a while to laze and remember and try to where he is. His memory plays into the story and reveals his family life and references his love of books and just wanders a bit. It feels good, here.
I hope no one is going to read this book thinking it'll be like Raiders of the Lost Ark. It's all about Adam and somewhat about Casey. Everything is from his perspective, so it's proving hard to put in any information about her without it turning into a lecture or soliloquy...but I'm slowly doing it. I took out any explanations she made about herself; I'm giving those to her mother, Patricia, in his next chapter...and maybe in the one following. We'll see how it goes.
No matter what, I'm getting it done. I'm probably being a bit precious by using this analogy -- but it's like the final detail work on a marble statue. What was it Michelangelo once said? He didn't so much carve a block of marble as release the figure within it. Something like that. I know I should Google it, but it's close enough.
I don't write, really -- I allow the characters to tell their stories through me. Sometimes that comes out easily; sometimes it's slow and torturous and damn near impossible to figure out what they want...until I learn their language and understand the meaning between and behind the words. I think half the reason I've had so much trouble on this story is, I wrote it as a script, first and it took the characters a while to let go of their images and allow me to see deeper than their surface. To trust me with their realities. And Jesus, how I love them all...
At least...that's my excuse and I'm stickin' to it...
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