When I start to write, I don’t have any plan at all. I just wait for the story to come. I don’t choose what kind of story it is or what’s going to happen. I just wait. HARUKI MURAKAMI, Paris Review, summer 2004
So a strange thing has happened to me. I had recently ran into a roadblock with my unfinished manuscript. It was going great and going in the direction I thought I wanted it to go in but then I stalled. No words were coming out – like my brain refused to write anymore. Like a stubborn child, arms folded and stomping one foot on the ground, with a huff. So I put it away. Stepped back and started to write another idea I’ve had in my head for years – I’d had tried to write it a few times – the first time it was too quick, rushed and didn’t give the story justice – second time around – I couldn’t write more than a few scenes – once again my brain was stubborn child, stomping it’s feet, screaming NO!
So there I was extremely frustrated and not knowing what to do with myself. Ask any writer – not writing a thing, just feel peculiar. Not doing something that has become second nature. So last week I decided to read my unfinished manuscript, form page one. Every word. Re-visit the characters I love so much over course hoping it would reunite the spark. What I found reading it from part one through to the unfinished part 3 – in the flow of what I had written and not whilst I am writing it, Part 3, didn’t fit in. It worked – it was a great twist, great story, and great handful of new characters but it didn’t fit in. I had built up a story of three characters that during the story you grow to love over the course of Part 1 and 2. Here I was in part 3 throwing the reader five extra characters – that are equally lovable but all I cared about reading it back was the 2 characters from the first 2 parts
So I decided to scrap Part 3 altogether. Brave and heartbreaking move but it is seemingly for the better. I’ve brought it back to the core of the story. Two characters and it is seeming to flow again. It’s more grounded and somehow more quiet. The joyous thing is – I am writing again and it feels good.
Wish me luck