A blog experiment by Brad Mills.


Sixteen thousand words later

I've decided writing a novel is a lot like driving a truck — more specifically, a truck which gets bigger and heavier as time goes on. It gets harder to control and take it where you want, and soon, it is driving you instead of you driving it.

I've not reached that point yet, but I'm getting close. Things are taking a direction, and it's a direction I never would have anticipated. This is not a complaint. On the contrary, I think it's a good thing. It means the story is unfolding on its own, and I'm just showing up and taking notes. That is when the magic truly happens.

At sixteen thousand words, this is the longest thing I've written so far (with the exception of this blog, and its analog counterpart from back in the day). It's an odd feeling. And it's almost a third of the way done. I feel like I've stumbled into a wide meadow after playing in a vacant lot most of my life. Right now, I prefer the meadow. I think I'll revisit the lot again after this is done, though, kind of a stretch and cool down after a lengthy exercise session. And, because I keep unearthing smaller stories which need some attention. (And, because I don't think I can ever completely stop.)

I miss my characters when I'm not spending time with them. I'm at a point where I know bad things are going to happen to some of them — well, at least one of them. And it genuinely makes me sad. I'm not going to force goodness upon them, because that's not "showing up and taking notes" — it's playing God. That's not how things work around here.

I woke up this morning and the Muse was there with a handful of material. "Here ya go," she said, "have fun!" And she flew off for the day. She came back this evening and I'd only incorporated a fraction of what she gave me. She whacked me on the head and gave me a little more. I find she's visiting in the morning a lot more often than ever before, so I believe I need to start taking a few notes when that happens. There's just no time to sit down and bang on the keyboard in the morning — workidschool. Come back in the morning, Muse; sit down on my shoulder and whisper in my ear.

Another day off coming up, and hopefully another big day of writing.

It's good to be back.

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