As I’ve stated in the past, my method for writing is very much a hit-and-run approach. Particularly with The Hushing Days in which every scene has been outlined down in both my head and paper, I will randomly pick a scene and plow all my intellectual resources through it.
Picture a snow plow plopped randomly down in blizzard-ridden Boston. One little street gets cleared out beautifully. But before the alleyways and side streets connecting the “chosen” lane to the rest of the city are so much as touched… “POOF!” The snow plow is scoffed away. A return promised, but not until next winter.
So, as I’ve been gathering up all my little throughways and boulevards these last three days, trying to piece the street grid of the novel back together, I’ve come to two conclusions…
1.) I would have sucked at being a City Planner. God knew what He was doing not putting this girl on that career path.
2.) There’s got to be a saner way to write a novel… (My dog/muse suggests that a saner author would be a start.)
Anyhow, the days of transcribing are coming to an end today. I’ll finally know where I stand with The Hushing Days. Whether this will end in laughter, tears or apocalyptic gridlock is anybody’s guess.