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Yesterday I got over my hump. I’d been struggling with, I hesitate to call it writer’s block, for a few weeks now. Oh yeah, I had the plans, the good intentions. I even had the bottles of wine and requisite lumbar support pillows. Despite that I just couldn’t bring myself to actually sit down and make the darn changes I was so invested in.
So when I stumbled half hung-over into CC chat yesterday (only one of those things is a lie) and an impromptu sprint was announced I figured, what the hell, I’ll give it a shot.
That half-hour proved to be a mercy killing for my struggles.
Edited in explosion? Check.
Changed Andrew Wagner into a dilapidated old man? Check.
Spilled icy water on Howard Dreyzon’s lap, forcing him into the bathroom where he is subsequently attacked by Steven who makes it clear in no uncertain terms that he is lucky to be leaving the bathroom with all his dangly bits attached? Triple check!
That leaves me down to all minor edits. Oomph up Carmen’s creepy factor, insert the ghostly corporeal spirit of Steven’s dead child throughout the entire novel. A dash of zazz there, a pinch of zip there, and I think I’ll finally be able to step away from The Code: Book 1 and feel satisfied with the overall structure of it.
It’s been a long haul. TCB1 (Hey, I like that!) has been with me since I was diagnosed with scoliosis, for every hospital visit, every dramatic family moment, every time, good and bad. Twelve years is a long time to work on the same piece of writing, but I couldn’t have finished it any sooner than now. I was always too immature or too impatient, or too desperate to create a look of this or that. Too desperate to force emotions down the throats of readers because if I was feeling that surely everyone else should feel it too.
Somewhere in the last year and a half of editing and rewriting I watched the character of Natalia form into this confused, frightened child, with just the right amount of sass and confusion about the world that she’s been thrown into.
The narrative has all the matches laid out on the floor, ready to be lit the moment the moment strikes, and when everything is said and done, the world of Natalia Artison is going to explode like a fireball. This character has no idea what is about to come her way, and that excites me. I think part of the reason is because there has been a distinct pattern in Natalia’s development. Every time I’ve struggled with something, she has too. Every time I’m in pain, so is Natalia. Every time I experience family misfortune, she does too. For so long, Natalia was a means by for me to deal with the stress of life, but now she is moving on her own, and it’s freeing for me.
There are stills bits of me in her. The sarcasm, the smarm and sass, all my own. I don’t think there’s anything wrong of that in the long term. Don’t get me wrong, I want to avoid smarmy, self-inserted, Mary-Sues for all its worth. But Natalia is chalked full of flaws, failures, successes and growth that takes her away from everything similar to me.
Everything but the sarcasm, mind you. I like the sarcasm. I am keeping the sarcasm.
…
And the explosions.
Kathleen Sawisky is a satirist wannabe-writer in Calgary, Alberta who likes to drink beer and troll people on Twitter. You can read more of her work here!
Crackin' The WIP 