measi's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- My novel took control, not me. Since I had such a quiet day yesterday at work, I spent a lot of my time daydreaming about ideas on the novel as I stapled and flagged contracts to be sent out to our illustrators. It's such mind-numbing work. And there's a ton of it. Whomever thought computers would lead to a paperless society is full of it. I'll argue that it's made the paper society worse, simply because it's easy to print out more... faster. I went through a ream and a half yesterday. Just me. On contracts. Ugh. Anyway, before I begin ranting on the typical frustrations of my job... I was daydreaming about the [novel], and what I wanted to write when I got home. Because despite a rough outline that is based off of a favorite book of mine (so I could see progression and a successful way to order the novel), I'm winging this in most respects. I had a grand plan on my way home that I was going to have my main character, Raven, meet up with the Dark Forboding Pagan Group (trademarked) that quite possibly could have caused her friend's death. I had it all worked out-- she'd meet them at a pub, discuss things for a while, and then do exactly what she knew was a stupid thing to do when meeting strangers-- head to a private house for a first-meeting ritual, away from anyone who might know who she was with or what these people were about. Said Dark Forboding Pagan Group (trademarked) had other plans for me, and decided to sit in shadows. She went to the bar, was stood up-- kinda, and left. My plan to have a beautiful drawn out segment of about 4,000 words was cut in half by my own characters rioting against my wishes. What the fuck?!? Am I writing this novel, or is it writing itself, just using me for my fingers on the keyboard?!? *sigh* So now I'm trying to figure out where to go from here, because actually, leaving it the way it did allows me to have a possible tangent subplot (translation=a better chance of having enough storyline depth for 50,000 words). But I did get to 15,000 words last night, which made me feel a lot better. Tonight my goal is 18,000. Tomorrow, 21,000. I might not make tonight's since Buffy is on, but I'm confident I can make tomorrow's goal, since I'll be hanging out at Borders after work for at least an hour and a half, sipping chai and typing like a mad woman. [erich] has to work until 7, and I'll pick him up at the Braintree T. I'd always heard that characters in a novel tend to take on their own personalities after a while. Once they get fleshed out and have some determined mannerisms, they just go where they want to. I'd heard it. That doesn't mean I'd believed it. Now I need to figure out how to get my novel back to some semblance of what I envision it, or get into a discussion meeting with said rebelling characters so we can find a compromise that will allow the story to continue. And I really need to update the [novel] with some of the other exerpts once I get home. Unfriggin' believeable. My own characters are rebelling against me. *sigh* 4:04 p.m. - 12 November 2002 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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