I stopped writing the sequel to my thriller, Gun Kiss, for a couple of days after hitting the wall. My plot had gone off the rail. The scene appeared like a broken railroad track. I didn’t anticipate the twist in the plot. Thoughts raced my mind like a road junction with no traffic regulators. I reached a point when I had to ask myself a serious question: Should I start all over again? I hate the idea, especially after putting so much time and effort, even if it’s just the first draft.
The anxiety, the self-doubt, the racing heart started dogpiling on me. Water, water everywhere not a drop to drink. I guess this is how a chess player feels after being stuck in a game when all the pieces are developed. But unlike a chess player where the little clock by the side is ticking, I have all the time in the world. So, I decided to stay away from the manuscript. Back off.
I’m a pantser. Not one of those authors who plot, schematize and outline their work. I prefer to lose myself in the dark before digging my way out of the hole. I like to live my own adventure as I write one. I do have my story mapped out, including a story arc, but the details are obscure; it’s something to worry about later, which usually puts me in situations. Here’s how it works: I see a character entering a house, but I don’t know how many times the character will go to the bathroom. I focus on the big picture rather than the little details that so easily entangles.
So, for a few days, while I was not writing, the sky appeared gloomy. I was in no mood to get on the beam. I hung out on social media, watch TV and whatever else but avoided opening my Word file. Then I heard a voice say, “You’ve already written thirty-thousand words. Are you really going to give up now?”
I found myself sitting at my desk again, staring at the screen. I still had no idea what to do. But I knew to bang my fists on the keyboard wasn’t going to help. I decided to give it another try. I started pottering around, nonchalantly reworking dialogues and descriptions, and rewriting what could be improved. Then, a literary angel came to my door at the least expected moment and bestowed on me the treasure of the highest imagination. The ideas poured in. I didn’t waste time collecting them like a happy farmer seeing rain after a long drought.
A lesson to self: There’s always a way to clear the hurdle. Take it slow…don’t panic. I repeat—don’t panic.
Ludwig Wittgenstein, the Austrian philosopher, said it best: “A man will be imprisoned in a room with a door that’s unlocked and opens inwards; as long as it does not occur to him to pull rather than push.”
Think about it…
Photo: Angela Yuriko Smith (Pixabay)
