Monday, June 16, 2014
How I want to be surprised by where they take me, by the weather that shows up, by the unforeseen turn?
Sometimes all that spontaneity can be a real big pain in the butt.
Like. Here I am, 175 pages into a new novel and this brand-new character shows up. She's lying on somebody else's bed. There's seashore sand blowing in with the breeze. There's an animal in a cage at her feet.
What the heck is she doing there?
And why oh why did I find her?
And do I really think there's any hope for this book if I can't keep it on the track I thought it was on?
Beth Kephart Novels: The work of a detour-ist.