Today I'm working on the faerie novel. Poor oft-abandoned faerie novel, always put aside when the world wants my attention on outstanding promises. It's going well enough, if slowly. But then, writing always goes slowly, these days.
Partly it's because I commit that cardinal "sin" of editing as I go. Which is really only a sin, at least for me, if I'm writing my first novel (so, scratch that as an excuse) or if I'm so stalled on the current novel that it simply won't move ahead. But I've learned that all I need to do, when my brain gets stuck in a negative editing loop, is to open a new blank document (a consequence-free-zone, if you will) and dump whatever's troubling me in there, without worrying about making it pretty or workable. Normally it ends up being an instruction to myself — don't forget she's on heroin; eyes? speech? reaction time? was one of this morning's notations. Once it's down, I can edit it with a little more objectivity and focus, which is of course the reason beginning writers are often urged to write first, edit later. I heeded that advice, myself, for my first couple of novels. Now that I'm confident I know how to finish a novel, I find I prefer to edit as I go whenever possible. Because in the end there's only one inviolable rule of writing: WHATEVER WORKS (FOR THIS NOVEL). It's finding whatever works that's the trick.
Because the faerie novel just presented me with a fight scene I'm not entirely sure how to tackle, and I'm still trying to decide whether we find the (fourth) dead body now, or later, I thought I'd take a break and give you all another bird picture, this time of Bernice the Black-Breasted Buzzard.
When on the ground she likes to run and she does it … well, kind of like a fanged chicken, actually.