Tuesday, April 14, 2009

When a novel just won’t let you go

If it's Tuesday, this must be Blechta...

As you will know if you’ve been a Type M reader for any length of time, my current novel, The Fallen One, has been gestating for far longer than has previously been the case for me. The reasons are many, most due to how much -- or more accurately, how little -- time I’ve been able to devote to it.

Anyway, it’s now done, revised numerous time, and in the hands of the experienced Patricia Moosbruger, Agent Extraordinaire, and I have high hopes for a good outcome. The five people who have read the novel have REALLY liked it, and they’re not the kind who pull their punches. Anything that stinks, they'll be sure to tell me about, in great detail, numerous times, with no respect for my tender emotions, bluntly. Now I’ll just have to be patient to see what editors think of it, and as many who know me will attest, I am the Poster Boy of Patience.

But some extraordinary has also been happening behind the scenes. The novel is complete, yes, and polished as well as I can do it at this point. However, I can’t stop working on it. Yesterday, I wrote two additional scenes. One, I’m pretty sure might be asked for by an editor since it is alluded to several times in the book. Why didn’t I put it in when I first thought of it? I really can’t tell you. At the time, it just didn’t feel right, and I write mostly by feel.

The other just came to me out of the blue, starting as a small plot device, but soon spreading insidious tendrils out in several directions into the story.

Will these two scenes wind up in the finished book? I really can’t tell you. Will I ever use them, though? You bet. If nothing else, they’ll wind up on my website in my Deleted Scenes section.

Another small scene occurred to me this morning, and I’m just itching to write it.

Somebody stop me!

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