Writing became such a process of discovery that I couldn't wait to get to work in the morning: I wanted to know what I was going to say.~Sharon O'Brien
I began a new story last night. I was going to put it off because I was just given some feedback on Remnant. Robison Wells read all 184,059 words (more or less) and amid his positive raves, suggested (among other things and without too much surprise) that I make it shorter. Much shorter. But that is a post for Monday Mess, wouldn't you agree?
In order to tackle the revisions of Remnant, I will print out the manuscript, put it in a binder, and grab the red pen. In order to do that, I need a printer. Which I have ordered. From Amazon.com. It's on it's way (thank you again, Shanda at LDS Womens Book Review, for the gift card I won over Christmas), but until its delivery, a story was circling, and I couldn't sleep until I had at least written a scene, fleshed out names, and landed a setting.
I love this part of beginning a new story. The very basics of creation. There is a shadow of a plot, yes, and since I'm a moderate outliner, that will come. But this is how I start. The scene in my head is written down. I don't know if it will be the opening scene, and it really doesn't matter at this point. Characters gain physical traits and adopt a certain sound, and attract a name, first and last. The scene becomes very focused on characters and movement and I wonder. Where in the world are you?
Yes, I talk. In my head. Okay, maybe I might whisper, but only sometimes. I think.
BAM. I know where they are, the scene opens up. Of course that's where they are and I think I'll have to work in a trip because it's been awhile since my last visit.
I stayed up until 2:54 am.
I'd forgotten how time flies when you're playing in your head. I woke up with the words I had written running through my mind, ideas shooting around in my periphery.
I LOVE THIS.
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