Phoenix Rising

Hello, my friends. It has been much too long since my last post, and I apologize for my neglect. Since you last heard from me, I found myself in circumstances which led me to take on a second full-time job. As you might imagine, working 80 hours per week, seven days a week, for months on end (along with the responsibilities of marriage, parenthood, and dog ownership), can put a crimp in even the most dedicated blogger’s aspirations.

I’ve managed to create a semblance of a more balanced life, however, (now I’m only working 1 and 3/5 jobs!) and am making time to take up the mantle of my literary hopes and dreams, along with their trials, and once again share them with you.

In my time away from writing, the truth of the age-old adage “you don’t appreciate what you have until you lose it” has borne down on me with a crushing weight. The thing that bothered me the most about my work schedule was that I didn’t have any time to spend with my family. Second to that, I was miserable about not having any time to write.

I may never become a successfully published author (then, again, I may), but what I learned over the past months is that I HAVE to write. It’s a part of who I am. How do I know? Because I’m miserable when I’m not writing. I’m not always satisfied with the quality of my writing. In fact, I never am. (One of my biggest obstacles as a writer is overcoming the feeling that “it’s not good enough to show anyone yet.” But that’s a byproduct of my own insecurities.) However, even though most of what I write leads me to frustration, I still feel compelled to do it.

So, the noble steed that proudly gallops along the dirt road leading to the hallowed emerald city of publication has bucked me off and left me lying face down in a foul mixture of mud and manure. But our hero (in this case, me) has struggled to his feet, retrieved his wide-brimmed hat, brushed off his duster and climbed back onto the saddle, determined to finish the journey, come hell or high water (or both).

And that has led me straight to my current hurdle: I’m writing a scene that takes place during a Columbine-like attack at a college campus. There’s chaos and panic and death and blood and tragedy and heroics and all of that stuff, but I’m having trouble capturing the fear and adrenaline of being in the middle of that because my point-of-view character is not afraid. He is a supernatural being who, if anything, is amused by the tableau surrounding him. Amusement is not the tone I’m looking for, though.

I thought about changing to a different point-of-view character, one who would be crapping their pants in this situation (and I might still do that), but I wanted this scene to flesh out my protagonist/supernatural guy’s internal motivations without losing the terror of the event.

It’s puzzles like this one that I find maddening, because I want to have my cake and eat it, too (I mean, what’s the point of having the damn cake if you can’t eat it?). At the same time, this is the whole fun of writing — it’s a jigsaw puzzle, crossword puzzle, chess game and Jenga tower all rolled into one.

What would you do? I’ll let you know what I decided next time.

Thank you for your time and attention, and for the many kind comments and remarks. Your readership is very dear to me. And Happy Holidays!!!

Advertisement