Story Meld (Or, Finally, Maybe, Hopefully, I Have Something to Write!)

A few months ago, I mentioned I had the genesis of a new novel–finally.  After quite a dry spell since finishing The Singularity Wheel.  Excited, I dove in and crafted a couple of chapters.  But then . . . deflation.  I realized pretty quickly that I didn’t have the kinetic energy necessary to continue on with a long writing project.  If, after only two chapters, I felt myself petering out, what chance did the story have?

 

Admittedly, these feelings can sometimes be misleading.  Maybe we’re having a bad day or a bad week.  Maybe we’re tired.  Maybe, for some reason, completely unrelated to the WIP, we’re just not in the mood to write.  As such, I didn’t make any decisions for a solid month.  I wanted to give the fledgling novel every chance I could before calling it a day.  But, after the month had elapsed, I realized I had even less zest to keep going.  The idea no longer energized me–it didn’t pop.  It lacked the one thing a novel must have if you are to write it–the ability to captivate its author.  If you as the author aren’t invested in your own story, your readers certainly won’t be.

And so I made the easy, and yet difficult, decision to quit writing  the story.  It was the right choice, but it left me where I’d been before starting it–story-less, no novel-length projects to work on.  It had been too long.  Would I ever write another novel?  Or had the well run dry–something I had always feared might happen someday.  Had that day arrived?

 

I took a step back, thought it over, tried to force a couple of ideas–but that never works.  You can’t tell yourself to write a novel if you have no idea, no vision, no characters who move you and urge you to carry on, with an inertia and a force that is irresistible and inevitable.  At least I can’t.  That’s what I’d just tried!  It would never work.

What, then?  Just sit back and wait for inspiration to strike?  What if it never did?  While I couldn’t force a story as it were, I could perhaps give myself some momentum, pouring literary lighter fuel onto my creative spirit.  So I read some Ray Bradbury, who always motivates me.  Watched a couple of my favorite Twilight Zone episodes, revisited some old comic books; read Truman Capote and Harper Lee and other personal favorites.

 

Nothing happened at first–no epiphanies, no “aha” moments.  But I could feel a turn in my creative soul.  The dormant muse was stirring, if gently, quietly, with a whisper, not a shout.  But there was movement.  Something had shifted.

I began to think of other novel ideas I’d had over the past year or two.  Like this latest one, they, too, began with a flourish but fizzled as soon as they were tested.  But I realized–despite initially feeling upbeat about my recent novel ideas, I never felt stratospheric, never had that sense that I was called to write the story.  It was interesting, and got my creative juices flowing.  But not enough.  Not to the point of needing to write it.

 

I examined the ideas I’d had–the sparse outlines, the characters, themes, motivations.  Might there still be meat on those bones, nuggets that if properly fertilized, might give birth to an idea with legs?  I pored over the notes I’d written, the first chapters, the stories that had begun but did not finish.  And I began to realize something.  While none of the ideas, individually, were strong enough to pursue, melded together, the best ideas of each would-be story might coalesce into one focused narrative that had potential.

I thought it over, made notes, truly got in sync with my passions–what it is I want to write about.  Made some changes.  Adjustments and additions.  Cut some things out.  Pulled it all together into a loose, general outline–not a chapter-by-chapter analysis–far from it.  Just a one-page overview, hitting key plot points, describing some of the main characters, the themes, the tone, the point of view.  Hmm, I thought.  You may have something here.

 

The key was–there was coherence.  A resonance with the subject matter and themes.  It is a return to coming-of-age, but it also incorporates memories, reflections, social commentary.  Everything I want to write about.

Okay, then.  Let’s get this party started.  It’ll be a slow process.  My novel-writing muscles have weakened a bit from disuse.  I’ll need to start slowly and gain momentum.  But I think I have something with genuine promise.  I’ll just need to take it one chapter, one paragraph, one sentence at a time.

Will it be a grand coming-together of important ideas and themes, merging into one powerful, moving narrative?  Or will it be a patchwork Frankenstein monster that stumbles to and fro, without direction or focus?  Only time will tell.  But I will take the plunge hoping for the former.

 

Writing is not for the faint of heart.

 

Thanks so much for reading!

–Mike