I finally got to the scene in which I’ve been daydreaming about for months. The scene that sets the entire plot of the story into motion. The scene that separates the set-up from the movement; the static from the dynamic; the mundane from the extraordinary. I spent hours today drudging through chapter three while allowing every though to flood the awaiting pages. I sent my doubts to time out and allowed the author in me to take charge for once and write like I hadn’t written anything significant in months.
I wish someone would have told me how boring it is to set up the background story of a novel. It would be so easy to just jump into the plot of the story. And there are a ton of authors who resort to that tactic and are very successful in pulling it off. However, for my story, there needed to be set up; there needed to be introduction; there needed to be context. That way, when things begin to unfold, readers will understand exactly why things are the way they are.
But my goodness how boring it is to write it all down!
My hands have been so itching to get to the “good part” that I’ve made my experience of setting the stage less enjoyable than I had hoped. And though I’ve spend soooo much time looking forward to the “good part,” I just hope that I can deliver. There’s nothing worse than spending all this time looking forward to something just to be disappointed in the end.
But I’d like to think that I’m better than that. Maybe, just maybe, I am looking forward to writing my way through the plot because I know that I am going to kill it; because I have confidence in my writing and in my storytelling capabilities. Surely there’s a reason why I haven’t given up on this novel. And hopefully as the story progresses, I will understand why I haven’t deleted it from my computer.