I panic. Part of me freezes, while another part flies off in a zillion different pieces banging into each other as they shatter-scatter about inside my body – inside my head.
It’s longer than a picture book.
It’s taking lots of words….
And I have this little panic button that is triggered by words – large counts of words.
And so my second verse novel has ‘sat’ for the past 8 months with naught but a token gesture word added to the mix.
I’ve written enough to know that it has potential to ‘BE’ something special – but not enough to be something, yet. Enough to know it’s a story that needs to be told – but not enough to feel like *I* can finish telling it.
My heart aches for Toby (my MC) and I can’t leave him in this place. But I don’t yet have the words – or the plan – to bring him out of this predicament. So I panic. What if I can’t finish this?
Last week I was able to refocus on the story. I completed a Scene Map, first shared by my friend/critique buddy, Karen Collum – and this helped me to step back from my manuscript and put things into perspective. Find gaps – and gaping holes.
In the past week, I’ve written 950 words – and I wasn’t even trying. My verse novel now sits at 4,465 words. (Fourthousandfourhundredandsixty-fivewords? That’s a lot of words… for me…)
This week I’m trying to ignore big numbers, and focus on specific gaps in my manuscript. I’m hoping I’m on a roll, and more of the story is going to come flowing out from my fingertips. I’m hoping I can help Toby find a happier place.
Not Good Enough!
Sometimes it feels
like my body doesn’t belong
to me. Like I tell it to do stuff
and it doesn’t. My feet stumble along
and trip over each other. My hands fumble
and drop and it’s almost like I’m wrapped in
invisible bubble wrap; stumbly fumbly bumbly –
michelin man bumping and blundering along.
Can’t get to sleep –
Mum and Lola giggling
and my mind running
laps around sleep
I don’t know whether to be
because I can do this
because maybe I
© Kathryn Apel 2009-2011
That almost sounds like me and my predicament with words. It isn’t. That’s Toby – my MC. And I really need to get back to writing his story…
I’d love to know if you can relate to this. Are you a panic writer? Or do you plot and plan and write cucumber cool?