God, I love being a writer.
I’d been miserably working on Rome all day. I’ve been in a black mood all week (and if this were a 13-year-old’s blog, I’d talk about that instead) and Rome was not working properly. I had, in my notes, that a Roman legion was made up of 1,400 bodies, all told. I double-checked before this battle scene I’m about to write and discovered it’s 6,000 which changes nothing but is still annoying as hell.
The battle scene has no point. I didn’t feel like writing it. I was stalled out and in a blacker mood than ever.
Then, as I kept writing all the little bits which lead up to the battle…wham-o! Suddenly, a sub-plot which has been useless and impossible to get into the novel for the past forty pages gels perfectly! It goes in this battle! It gives the battle a point and, because of its nature, it means I only have to focus on the battle for a little bit, and it gives me the scene with the supporting character I’d been trying to get in, and it all fits together, and it has a purpose and, and, and, and…
I’m still pretty grim, but at least at the moment, I’m flying high on the joy of writing.
Honestly, moments like this are the best, aren’t they?
The ironic thing I’ve always noticed is that when these moments occur, it is never new material brought in which fixes the problem, just already-present material that you’ve written or previously tried to write properly considered.
I’d talk more, but I must go write! Writewritewritewrite! Ha ha!
If I keep clearing my snags like this, I’ll happily finish the novel by the end of October, and that would make me a happier camper still.
Also nice: My wife is off tomorrow and Monday. That improves everything.
All right, I leave you with this. If I remember tonight, I’ll also do my other longer post that I would have written, had I not been attacked by a momentary bout of Writing Genius.