Figuring it out....

I've just been opening the file for the current chapter and staring at it for the past week or so (I'll never tell exactly how long--or so-- is), not writing a damned word. I've tried opening files for different scenes/chapters and nothing comes along. I've even opened files for totally different stories...and again, nothing happens.

No spark, no words, no dialogue -- and worst of all, the voices in my head have been so very quiet. That's NOT a good thing.

Especially when I'm 30 chapters into a book and working on the ending. But, I think I've finally figured out some of the problem. That oh-so-horrid email that hurt might have actually been on que.

I printed out all of the chapters that I had of the book so far, and I went back and started re-reading. I think it's weird to read my own writing...but anyways, I digress.

I started seeing that my hero was more tainted than tortured after the fabulous mind/body fuck in chapter 24. I didn't actually want him to BE a monster -- but to FEEL like the monster.

It was as if the moment I realized it, I knew what I had to do. I pulled down my chapters from my Yahoo group (one reader caught me as soon as I did that...so much for trying to pull a fast one) and went to work.

Last night the words flowed. Scenes made sense. My Richard gave me another scene from his past that he's held private for so long. I know it was hard for him -- but it was instrumental in getting it right. So sitting here, tears flowing like there was no tomorrow, I worked on one of the most difficult scenes I've had to write thus far.

It's hard when your character hits the bottom of the barrel and you have to both take them there and bring them out again. So, at 5:15 a.m. this morning I finally went to bed, confident in the fact that a 2nd botched suicide in his lifetime was his wake-up call. But I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, shaking my head because what I'd written had been so raw and so exposed that I had a hard time shutting off the emotion from the actual scene.

I then kind of felt as if some weight had been lifted. It was as if Richard had wanted this scene to be in the book originally -- and had been trying to tell me that all along -- but that I had pulled back, trying to protect him from going through it.

I love my characters, I truly do. But Richard is so much a part of me, that sometimes it's hard to separate the boundaries of what's HIS shit and what's MINE. Sometimes it's equally hard making sure that what none of MY issues hit the page. In this case, I'm glad there is no blurring of the lines and that this issue is his and his alone.

Oh well, I guess I'm off to have another tear-filled day. It just seems to keep popping up.

Damn, I'm thinking I should buy stock in Kleenex....