I find I can be a stubborn person. I get an idea in my head, and I just do not want to let it go. (When it’s an idea I like.)
But no matter how many times I wrestle it, my story always wins, which ends up being a win for both of us. You’d think I would have learned this by now. But, no, not me. Wouldn’t want it to be simple. God forbid… I fight the change, even the most simple of changes.
A couple days ago I was at it again. I already had a scene partially written where two characters meet, and I was quite attached to it. In the back of my mind, there was a little nudge that said something was wrong with it, but I did not give the thought a chance to even reach the stage. I liked that scene, and it was going to stay. That was that.
So I’m writing my novel, getting ever closer to that scene’s insertion point, and it is consistently popping into my mind. And with it comes that ever-ignored nudge. Truly, I have gotten so adept at ignoring said nudges that I hardly know they exist until looking in retrospect.
The scenes leading to the meeting are unfolding in unexpected ways (as usual), and tossed in front of me is a hole that needs filling and an obvious answer: the other character, the one that was not to appear until that scene I had specially prepared. I pushed it away. No. They met in that scene, and that was that.
It continued to press me as I wrote further, getting closer and closer, and I continued to say No. I liked that scene. I would not delete it. Never. It belonged in the book. I knew it did. But it would not give me any peace. Any time my mind would wonder, I would incessantly find myself in the same ring and the same wrestling match.
I continued to write. It was getting stronger though. After yet another insistent shove, I smacked my pen to the notebook. Fine. I’ll listen. That doesn’t mean I’m going to change anything. But I’ll follow the breadcrumbs. Hypothetically, of course.
So I did. And as I traversed the misty trail, rounding curves to unexpected sights, I rounded one into a light. Revelation. What it had been trying to show me the entire time: I could have them both. I had been right. That scene did belong in the book…but so did this one. They did not step on each other’s toes. They meshed perfectly. (‘Least I think so.) 🙂 They belonged together.
You idiot. That nudge you were ignoring. Yeah, that one. It was telling you they had already met. It was obvious: the way they reacted to one another, what they were saying, what they weren’t saying. They had met before. (Cue: slap forehead, or just slap yourself in general.) I swear I do this a lot. (The ignoring, not the slapping…) I have the epitome of ‘thick skulls’. But, in the end, the story beats through to great success.
(Maybe I’m being a mite too open in this one… But, hey, I never said I was smart.) 😉
Writer exits, stage left, returns to idiosyncrasies and creation.