So on Tuesday I was writing, trying to get a quick 1,000 words in while unpacking and repacking and all that nonsense before leaving for Jane_o_Trades’ wedding Wednesday. And I had already mentioned to Jay that I was starting to get annoyed at the main character in OUR LADY OF THE ISLANDS, and starting to get impatient with the book itself–it seemed as though the action was dragging, and that the MC was being overly whiny about her unfortunate situation, rather than actually taking action to fix it.
I sat down to write and she kept being stubborn and sulky and gloomy, hiding herself away from the world, in disguise.
She was slinking back from the market with her head down. (Mind you, I am *writing* all this, but even so, the character kind of walks her own path, you know?)
“DO something!” I shouted at the computer screen.
Across the room, working on his own project, Jay burst out laughing. He knew exactly what I meant.
I growled and stared at the screen… and then the MC did something. She hurled the dead chicken she was carrying at the rough stone wall of the building beside her. And she yelled. And her disguise slipped down.
The crowd took notice, and things started happening…
And now the action is moving forward just nicely, thank you very much.
Moral of the story: don’t ever imagine that fictional characters don’t have minds of their own. Sure, we’re writing them, and (nominally) (ideally) we’re in charge. But… I had no idea she was going to throw that dead chicken at the wall.
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I’m 36,000 words into this draft, after 2,000 words written this evening. I’m so tired. The wedding was super fun, including vows straight from Dr. Seuss, and reconnecting with some old friends from high school, back when the earth’s crusts were cooling and I was *just* a girl. And the weather! Ahhhh for being able to wear sandals and a strappy dress late at night…and for lying down and watching meteor showers from the damp cool lawn. Good times.
Back to work tomorrow. Boo.