It’s happening today–the same as once before where the story is all laid out for me, coming from the opening line but having a beginning, a middle and an end and I know what all that is.
I can’t write fast enough. The prose that usually rolls right out without direction isn’t quite as easy in the mapping. Knowing story, and yet not knowing how to tell it, what words to use, what structure to build up from all the different scenes and spaces; this is a foreign way to work for me. Alien to my nature of just opening my mouth and letting it all out in its own strange language.
Had to write notes to remember where I am going; a short story diagram, or the cover to the puzzle box where all the pieces are laid out.Will I lose interest in this new method of pondering each and picking out the blues to make the sky?
I do feel lost; not having paid attention in the writing classes because it wasn’t what I’d ever felt and known to be. Like scribbling down just anything that I could force up to the surface instead of knowing first and scrambling for the keyboard.
I’m not sure where to go from here; what am I supposed to do next to get the story moving?
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology
You know you should just pour it out, edit and arrange later. God knows most people wish they could find something to say.
It’s not pouring out as usual. But I have gotten well into the setting at a thousand words today. It’s just a slower path that I’m not used to, and I’m not necessarily sticking to Plan A but allowing it to go on its own, which is more my normal way of writing.