It's now the end of May.
What happened?
I started the year with wonderful goals, and I wrote daily for almost a month and a half. The prequel* continued to take shape, and I pushed past the childbirth scene that had stalled my progress. A few new characters walked themselves into the narrative, a delightful rogue and addlepated fool among them. A character for whom I had envisioned an entire life's backstory ended up elsewhere. It was fascinating, satisfying work.
Then I moved the location of the calendar on which I was keeping track of my progress. Writing stopped. Funny how a physical act can have such considerable consequence. "April," I thought. "I'll jump back in during Camp Nanowrimo."
Camp started well. I nearly reached my 10,000 word goal. But then the end of the school year interrupted my daily writing practice, and the story was once again set aside. "Summer," I thought. "I'll jump back in when summer starts."
Meanwhile, I've been mentally plotting away. As a result, the prequel is getting bloated with characters that ultimately don't matter and plot that spins off sideways. I've given considerable thought to my fictional world's "religion" -- its beliefs and practices.
I should know better.
I started reading Matt Bird's The Secrets of Story during spring break.
Among other timely lessons, this excellent guide reminded me that I need to be lean.
And then today I read this in an article by David Peterson about creating fantasy languages:
"A common bit of advice given to writers is that story comes first; everything else comes second. With respect to fantasy, this advice is often employed to warn against the dangers of falling down the rabbit hole of world building. World building is great only insofar as it serves the story; anything else is a creative form of procrastination."
I have been creatively procrastinating.
It's now the end of May.
Summer.
Time to jump back in.
* I did, indeed, temporarily abandon the original book in order to start writing the prequel. In November, I participated in Nanowrimo and wrote a solid start to the newer novel. All it took was finding a "moment" to get me going. That moment involved a foot stepping onto a gangplank, the beginning of a journey.
