If there is any truth to the existence of a muse, then he/she has made a sudden appearance. The first draft of my novel has been completed for quite awhile now, but is not ready to be presented to an agent. The characters don’t have enough bones, blood and definition, and the plot is disconnected with holes that look like a children’s snowflake cutout.
I began working on my revision about three or four months ago, when I decided to sign up for a thriller critique group. With the deadlines of meeting every other week, I have been writing like crazy. Recently, my writing cohorts asked me in the kindest way they could, “What does the murder have to do with what is going on with your main character?” I did not know what to say, probably because I did not know the answer!
Over the next few weeks, their question rolled through my mind like a gentle flowing river. I stopped and thought about my main character and asked him to share his story. Every time his voice came into my head, I listened. Finally, I realized that the murder is not important. However, the type of work he does is central to the story (in case you are wondering, he investigates missing children). The murder went, the work stayed.
I have rewritten chapters one and two and look forward to three. My story feels alive, real (well not real real) and my fingers are on fire. Speaking of, it’s time to write now.