Check out this post from the Novelty Revisions blog on answering your story’s call
This month, I started writing a sad book about sad characters.
And I cried. A lot.
I knew going in that this was going to be an emotional story. But for some reason, I thought (stupidly) that I could distance myself enough from it to, you know, not have to type through tears.
Clearly, I grew very close to my characters very quickly. Because each day of writing meant putting them through unfair things, and that sort of destroyed me a bit.
I’d be fine with this, if this story was my own personal way of dealing with some kind of grief or overcoming some obstacle. But it isn’t. I have had a wonderful year, I am very content and happy, and life hasn’t thrown anything at me lately that I couldn’t handle.
So why did my brain suddenly come up with such a devastating plot to explore?
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