Something interesting happened to me this week. I was telling my seventeen-year-old about my latest book and right in the middle of a sentence, I realized something very important. And scary as hell.
I’ve been writing the wrong book.
I’ve spent the last six months focusing on this project. I’ve obsessed about the opening sentence and first chapter. (In fact, I’ve written about four different versions of that first chapter.) But I’ve finally found some good, solid ground and spent weeks on a detailed outline and character analysis. I’ve got some clever stuff and forward momentum. And a decent amount of pages. But the fact remains, it’s the wrong book.
So. I’m trusting my hopes (and taking a break from my fears) and scrapping the last six months of work. I’m keeping the heart of my book but going a new direction. I'm a little disappointed I've been going in circles and I don't feel particularly brave. I know starting over won’t be easy but it needs to be done. And (*looks around*) I'm the only one here.
It’s kind of funny. The question my main character must answer is this: Would you stand up for what you thought was right - even if you knew it could go all wrong?
And so I am.
Wish us luck.