I am my own worst critic. I did not meet my deadline. Not even close. I have no good explanations for this other than I allowed myself to become distracted by life and reading (so much reading), but mostly by edits. On a scale from 1-10 rating my interest in anything I'm rarely ever in the middle, I either love or loathe something and tolerate everything else. When it comes to reading I'm at a 10.999999. I LOVE to read. So I can easily be consumed by a great book to where it consumes every free moment I get. My hope for my book with all of my heart is that when I finally put it out there it will have a similar effect on readers. I want Mary's story to distract and consume because it's that good.
We learn something new every day. I am a firm believer in this, sometimes knowledge is stumbled upon and you say 'huh, I never knew that' or 'good to know' and other times we have to actively educate ourselves. I did this. Instead of just allowing myself to get lost in the books I was reading I weighed the pros and cons of each story. Why did I like this book better than that one? They're both entertaining, but what's in this book that's missing from that book? I took what I found and applied it to my story. I realized if my book were a soup it was surely missing some meat! So I've been going back in to other chapters and adding more scenes, more sentences using as many senses I could without overdoing it. I want my readers to be transported and experience everything the characters experience.
Let the chips fall where they may. I am half way through the chapter, but once again I'm at a crossroads with where I want the characters to go. When I sit back and think about this constant battle I wonder am I trying to force the story in one direction? From the beginning I've had a vision of how the story would start, progress and eventually end, so why the struggle? I'm too focused on what I want the end result to be (readers loving Unexpectedly On Purpose and begging for more) and less focused on allowing the story to flow freely from my imagination the way it did when I started the writing. I'm a people-pleaser by nature and I have to consciously fight this every day, especially where my writing is concerned.
Writing is supposed to be everything that makes an author feel good. It shouldn't ever feel like work. I know all of this and as much as I want to end this post like a perfectly formulated happy ending I can't. Not if I'm being honest. Instead I'll put on my feel good music, light a cinnamon scented candle, write and rewrite if necessary and hope for the best. :)
