My Mad Dragon Eye (On Writer's Block, Voodoo, and Deep Woods Witches)

  My plot wandered off into the woods this week. Here’s what that means: I tried to write but I lost focus. None of my chapters came together. I made little or no headway on book three. I revised, rewrote, but couldn’t progress the story. The characters were there, but I could not decide where to take them next.   Only I realized this at first. Then my characters noticed. Tully sat on a distant moon and waited for instructions. Tabitha and Sunjay returned to Earth but had no idea how to tackle their problems. Sorry, my magical protagonists. Mea culpa, sorta. The plot wandered off.   “Well, go find it,” Tully said.   “I’d rather wait for it to come to me,” I said. “You know, wait of the lightning bolt of inspiration to smite me.”   “Stars, how’s that working out for you?” asks Tabitha.   I tried all my tricks. I worked late, I worked early, I worked out to get the blood flowing. I made smoothies, drank strong coffee, and, in the end, made a decision. I would work without the plot for a while. I’d press on with no particular end in mind.   After all, not having a plot is a plot in its own right. It’s a story I can tell myself and my readers. I can be honest with Tully and Tabitha. So I told them.   “Okay, Tully, you’re stuck on a moon. And Tabitha, you just returned to Earth. That’s the best I can do for now. You figure it out from there, my little friends. Fend for yourselves. You’ve done it before.”    Tabitha rolled her eyes.   Nevertheless, I embraced the situation. I played the game. I kept writing without the plot. I kept writing when the writing got bad. A tsunami crashed on a deserted moon. It was beautiful and meaningless. Tully wandered the streets of a haunted city. No one met him there. He peeked into vacant buildings hoping for a confrontation or resolution, but the phantoms fled before he could make out their forms.   Is this what people call writer’s block? I wondered. I’ve always thought writer’s block was a self-fulfilling prophecy, a bit of voodoo where you’re both priest, supplicant, and victim. And I’ve never been much for needles.   Needles reminded me of compasses. A compass, my plot, was lost.  Back to the plot then. What was I supposed to do?   In a word, what I do now.   Write.   In more words, do the writer’s job, which is to keep the pen moving and the keys clicking. It’s that simple.  Each stroke is a step in some direction. Each stroke I learn what I already know. I simply need to go, to follow the breadcrumbs deep into the woods. That’s not so complicated. That’s what it takes to find the plot sometime. I have to let it go in order to find it again. I have to walk into the woods, no matter how much doubt tells me to turn around and run back to a normal job and a regular paycheck. Once I enter the woods, I’ll find what I am seeking. It might not appear for a spell though. I might languish beside a gurgling stream from which I cannot drink. I might meet a wise old man that leads me astray. I might fall in love with a wood nymph who turns me into a frog-infested log in a murky bog. Eventually I will un-log myself. I always do.   Then I will find the witch of the woods, drink her poison, and fly away on dragon’s wings.  
  Out of the corner of my mad dragon eye I might then espy the plotdrowning in a bog of ink from three days’ writing. I speak the magic words; The plot rises up to meet me. 
  “Thank for that,” the plot says, squeezing bog juice from his pantaloons. (Sorry, he dresses himself).   “Anyway, glad to be back. You’ll be wanting your three wishes.”  “For what?” I ask.   “For saving me,” he says.    And thus we return home.   In the meantime, Tully figured out that he wants to stay on that moon for a while. And Sunjay and Tabitha have made alternate plans of their own. And all while the supposed plot was wandering around in the enchanted forest. Unplanned goodness is the best sort of goodness to plan.   Well, that seems to have worked itself out nicely on a Friday afternoon, I think. The plot still owes me three wishes, and I’ll cash in my first wish today.   In the form of a blog post.   Happy Friday, everyone. 
  Expect a second wish tomorrow, and this one surprised me much more than finding my lost plot.