I half think I should call this “Whine, Whine, Whine.”
The scene I thought was so fabulous two days ago is not fabulous after all, at least not in its current incarnation. I’ve already begun overhauling it, making it stronger. I’d be more depressed about this if I hadn’t remembered that I had the same kinds of problems writing the last scene in Narthé’s point of view — false starts and do-overs. If this happens the next time I write a scene from his point of view, I’ll know it’s just a given when writing that particular character and I’ll prepare for it.
I wonder how much it has to do with the fact he’s a shapeshifting dragon who’s kind of like an angel. He’s not human and I try to keep that in mind when crawling under his skin to see the story from his perspective. That may gum up the works a little bit, so I end up writing all kinds of unworkable things that end up getting discarded. I hate doing that, but maybe it’s necessary.
This is another facet of trusting myself: Not putting any pressure on myself to decide what something means, or that an aspect of my process, however maddening, is a Problem That Must Be Fixed. Tonight, I’m just considering a possibility…and letting it go at that.
I’m reading a book that I’m finding fascinating and resonant: Revolution On My Mind: Writing a Diary Under Stalin by Jochen Hellbeck. Part of the fascination comes from knowing almost nothing about the USSR under Stalin — there are glimpses of that history that are triggering my (easily triggered) curiosity. The rest of the fascination comes the way Hellbeck explores four different yet similar lives through their writers’ diaries.
It also feels as if what I’m learning is going into my imagination’s compost heap, to feed the roots of some story or other. That’s why I let myself wander wherever I want: I never know what’s going to be useful and valuable.