…can I start the same novel?
Tonight makes four. Maybe it’s the magic bullet. One more and I’ve got a full chamber*, hey-oh!
If nothing else, it’s the first one that is starting in a substantively different place. Maybe I had it all wrong, trying to set the scene and be atmospheric before jumping into the action. That (that is to say, description and physical grounding) has never been my strong suit, so why attempt to lead off that way except that I thought it would make a great artistic pretension? Sometimes you just have to cut your losses and realize – I’m not artist enough to pull that off.
Lily just gotta be Lily, you know?
I don’t know if I’ll be any happier with this start later, but I was at least happy enough with it tonight to bring in the hero’s first point of view section from Chapter 1 (which did not need to change). And I gave myself a clear thesis for what the heroine’s goal and intention is with her actions. I gave up the idea of being able to tell the reader without telling them. Fuck that. I’m not artist enough for that, either. She can say flat-out, “I’m here to ruin his life.” Yup. Go get him, cowgirl. Just, ah, pro tip – make sure you have the right dude, first.
Or don’t. ’Cause if you did, there’d be no story.
339 words later, I have officially written something for the first time in I can’t even conjure how many months, and attempt #4 to (re)write the opening of this fucking novel is underway. Post integration we are up to 1824 of a projected 30K.
Now if only this feeling of empty, broken despair that leaves me barren of all fucks as far as quality is concerned will just stay in place for another (pauses and does math) 17 or so nights….