So I blogged on Monday about how I was all fired up to write this new book, and how I was going to spend the next few days plotting it so I could start writing on Thursday or Friday, and how all was well with the world, and then I hit “Save” and went home and died. I think I may have died three times; it got a little hazy in there. The point being, I returned to work this morning in a still-slightly-medicated fog, and nothing’s happened all week. Except that I watched a lot of World War II retrospectives on TV, but that’s completely beside the point.
The point is, I’m back into the plotting phase of Makeover, and it’s interesting. I’m doing multiple viewpoints, which I’ve never been very successful with before, and my story structure is odd–not “constructed like a fugue” odd, just different from what I normally do. It’s also going to be in third person, which is not especially hard, per se, just outside of my comfort zone. I love first person, and I think my strengths as a writer mesh very well with first person’s strengths as a literary device. Going outside of that comfort zone is going to change the way I reveal both plot and character, and that’s an interesting thought to have while planning a book.
The good news is, after four days of dying on the couch while children run rampant through my fatherless house, I was able to come back to work, read my notes, and get instantly sucked back into the feel and excitement of this story. Hooray! Now all I need to do is figure out how to give readers the same reaction, and I’m golden.