Revised one chapter (of five and a half) for Phase II of the Petra Released rewrite. For what it’s worth, here’s Magic Meter:
I had hoped to accomplish more than this, but then, don’t I always?
You know, it occurs to me that stories–particularly in the longer forms–are a lot like romantic relationships. They go through similar phases: 1) the Flirty Phase, where an idea teases you with possibility; 2) after idea blossoms into full-blown inspiration, the Giddy Phase, wherein you get to know the story, and you’re so excited that you can’t stop thinking about it (notes, research, and outlining usually happen during this phase); 3) once you begin drafting, the Adjustment Phase, wherein you discover the idiosyncrasies, neuroses, and incompatibilities that present heretofore unforeseen challenges, and you remember that relationships can be hard work; 4) the "Thrill Is Gone" Phase, wherein the writing becomes drudgery, and you’re convinced that it’s just not working out, but you keep slogging forward, anyway, because you’re already so invested; and 5) the Amicable (one hopes) Breakup, wherein your story goes its own way in the world, but you and it decide to remain friends . . . or at least keep in touch.
OK, so it’s not a perfect analogy. Work with me a little, willya? The whole point of this little digression is that Petra Released has pretty much reached "Thrill Is Gone" status. This particular relationship has already been rockier than most, but we’re at a real ebb at the moment. Meanwhile, another story has gone from overt flirtatiousness to outright dating. Last week, during a walk, I found the plot to my next novel. I’m a bit giddy about it. Ideas are flowing, pieces are falling together, and it all looks very promising.
But still, I must deal with the ol’ ball and chain.
So I have to keep telling the new story to be patient, to give me just a few more weeks to work it out, and then we can be together. Honest, honey. Just a few more weeks, so that Petra Released and I can end this cleanly. I owe her that much. You understand, don’t you, baby? Don’t you?
(Everyone reading this realizes, of course, that I’m sharing this in the strictest confidence. Please don’t tell Petra Released that I’ve been unfaithful, OK? Let me break the news gently. Thanks.)
Yeah, men are pigs.
No updates for Write Club.
I’m out.
