I'm finding that although my scene is in my head, it still needs to be let out to pee, so to speak, just like Greta, my dog. This morning, I had to corral my 23 year-old-son, who was eating his three waffles before dashing off to the University and work, to sit and listen to me. I have been stuck on Chapter Five of my new novel since July. Finally, last night I had come up with a brilliant end to the scene, an all out fight between the hero and the villain, and I couldn’t wait to read it to anyone who’d listen. I'm shameless that way.
“Does this sound right to you?” I asked him, referring to the body movements between the two characters.
He rolled his eyes with a pained expression on his face. I knew this all sounded ridiculous to him, but he humored me along. Suddenly, the phone rang.
My friend Maggie Dove, also a writer and a member of our critique group, wanted to chat. She’s had no problem whipping out ten pages this week of her new novel and I was very jealous.
“I can’t,” I tell her. “I’m going over the fight scene.”
“Again? Okay, talk to you later.”
I turned back to my son and a second later the phone rang again. This time it was my daughter, who is usually frazzled and short on time.
“What’s up?” she asked, as my son picks up the phone.
My son tells her, with a not so slight hint of sarcasm, that we are otherwise occupied and can’t talk.
“Can’t I help?” she asked.
“Yes, yes,” I called out, forgetting my wounded pride for her temporary disinterest. (She’s actually a fantastic editor, plotter and writer)
As we discuss and act out the moves, I realize my brilliance has lost its sparkle. What was I thinking? How come I didn’t see this? It’s only 8:00 in the morning, but I can tell the rest of the day is going to go all wrong--like my scene.
“No, mom, maybe if the heroine says this…or the hero does that…or they settle their differences another way…”
Yeah! Wow! I can see it all now.
What would I do without them???