I have a lot of ideas. Lots and lots of ideas. Some of these ideas are great ideas that would make great novels and others are great ideas that should remain ideas,because they simply can’t sustain themselves beyond the “this is a neat idea” phase. I think that’s something a lot of authors ask themselves–”Yes, this is a great idea, but would this make a great story?“. Ideas are like those nasty plotbunnies I wrote about in my first post; they pop up when you’re working on something else and then seek to force their way into your head space and whimper “WRITE ME, WRITE ME!”

I’m pretty good at ignoring these plotbunnies. After all, I’m pretty much working on two novels right now–my first novel, which I wrote for NaNoWriMo last year, and another idea that I started working on about four months ago. The place I don’t want to find myself in again is the one where I’m working on seven different ideas, and none of them get finished. When you’re working on a novel for a year, somtimes it’s hard to give it all your undivided attention. After all, t’s been a year, and all those fun little plotbunnies seem so darned entertaining!

Luckily, I’ve been able to curb my enthusiasm for dumping one story and moving on to the next simply because it’s easier to start something new than it is to keep working on he thing you’re working on. I will never abandon the wo things I’m working on now because they’re great stories, not great ideas. I used to write thirty-thousand words of a story, then come a screeching halt and the dreaded brickwall. I used to think there was something wrong with me, but then I realized that while I had great beginnings, and I ould envision good endings, I had no friggin’  middle. I had no way to tell the actual TALE.

The middle of the bookdon (or play or TV show or movie) is where actual STUFF happens. The beginnings are easy–the end can write itself. The middles? The middles are those tricky little bastards that don’t write themselves. The middles make you think.

I hate thinking.

So recently I’ve begun this practice–when a plotbunny pops up, and it grabs my attention away from something I’m writing, I don’t start writing it all at once. I actually think first–I sit there and let he idea marinate. I see if there’s an actual story to be had, or if I’m setting myself up to not finish yet another story.

If I can come up with things to happen in the middle, the idea is in pretty good shape. But it also has to make  sense with he rest of the story. I have to be able to get from point A to point B to point C clearly and without a bunch of tomfoolery.

I have to be able to actually see the idea in my head, playing kind of movie. If there starts to be jarring jumps in continuity or gaps in logic, and if they keep popping p continuiously, it’s time to dump the idea. If I find myself bored, or if it’s two people talking in an endless void, that needs more time to sit.

But what if an idea meets all those criteria? What if that idea is actually good, what if that idea would actually make  good, interesting story?

Well, then you end up in the situation I’m in now–with three friggin works in progress. As if my attention span wasn’t stretched thin enough. THREE.

Three great stories and only one me to write them. Why haven’t they invented a device that reads your mine and magically puts all your thoughts neatly into Word documents ready for publishing? Everything sounds better in my head anyway! GRRR!

This danged plotbunny has morphed itself into another novel. I can not work on three novels at once. It is not possible. On the other hand, I don’t want to shelve any of this ideas.It’s the Writer’s Conundrum–one me, one brain, and I don’t have six arms to type on three different computers.

Damn, damn, damn my ability to take the things around me and warp them into stories of some kind. It just isn’t fair, man! Not fair at all!

I have been wondering if maybe someone out there would be willing to give my first novel a look over. When I first wrote it, only one person ever saw it and gave me feedback on it–hence, while their feedback was helpful and they liked it, I’m still working on rewriting it blind, with only the prospective of me, that one person, and my friend who I shared the story with the entire time I was writing it. I well into writing the second draft, but a little perspective on what made the first draft great (and I feel like I’m losing something in the second draft, though I don’t know what).

Anyone to read the first draft of a novel that I’m very proud of/paranoid about it sucking? Anyone? Bueler? Bueler? (*sigh* just reminded myself John Hughes died).

Alright, the plotbunnies call yet again. Until next time

KC