This series of posts about things we always screw up as writers was eerie to read. I’ve freaked out and messed up in all of those ways, and then some. So when it came time to write my own take on the subject, I wondered where in the world to start. Then it hit me–knowing where to start is my thing!
I am getting better at this, I swear. But it’s a struggle. I ramble. I enjoy setting the stage. I want to work in descriptions of the clothing, as well as a good dick joke or three. And oh, Lord, how I love my characters’ back stories! Actually getting my book distilled into an elevator pitch is about as traumatizing for me as being trapped in the elevator as it plummets from the penthouse. Here are a few highlights of my guilty past. At some point in my writing career, I have:
- Written a (supposedly steamy) rock star romance where the hero and heroine don’t meet until around page 100.
- Written a story so chronologically, it literally left nothing out. Including the character getting ready for bed, falling asleep, waking up, and having breakfast. Each day.
- Begun a story with the heroine packing her suitcases, and then driving to the destination where the story will actually take place, at some point in the near future. After she checks in to the hotel down there, of course.
- Wondered if a prologue might be a good place to sneak in another awesome flashback.
- Lamented the demise of the sweeping, 800 page sagas that I used to check out from the library in high school. Why can’t I write something that takes a good fifty years or so to really get going?
It hasn’t come easy, but I’ve learned. And am still learning. And when I forget and let my natural tendencies take over, I have my wonderful Bad Girlz to nudge me back on the path to find my story… or at least take a look at the freaking map 🙂