Juggling, and not bowling pins or fiery sticks, is not for
those who aren’t organized. So you can imagine how difficult juggling is for me
as a writer. I am not that well organized (yes, I should be) and so feel that
each novel I write is, in essence, a juggling act. I try to be organized, which
is why I do outlines. However, unlike John Grisham (I just found out from
another A to Z blog http://lauramarcella.blogspot.com)
who always uses, and sticks to, an outline, I use it primarily to keep my
juggling act from falling apart. I do stray from the original often, but the
outline keeps me steady on where I eventually “want to” end up.
Think of this, I have a storyline. I have my protagonist,
perhaps more than one. I have the environment, which is really another
character amongst the multitude, and time and time line to keep in their places, moving where they should be, when
they should be. This is my juggling act. If I get to the end, and my readers
like the story and the ending, then I’ve succeeded. I always consider this a
miracle, and not a minor one. Because juggling, like writing, takes A LOT of
practice, a lot of thinking and following/trusting your imagination. It is not
an easy job. If my novel is easy for you, as my reader, to read, then the
juggling is worth it because in the end, that’s what a performer’s job is. It’s
also what keeps us, as performers, coming back for more. Here is a “blurb” for
my current work in progress, which can give an idea of this particular juggling act:
London. Three people; a killer, a writer, and a cop. Their destinies
are about to collide and change them forever.
On a cold white before-Christmas day, an assassin completes a job only
to be pursued by police. Dodging through bustling city streets, the assassin
nabs a young woman out of a crowd for cover.
Celia Wight, a reclusive American writer, is shopping in her spare time
during a book tour. When a knife presses against her back and a stranger takes
charge of her carefully controlled life, horrific memories surface and force
her to fight for her life, again.
Assigned to the homicide, Detective Alban Thain of the Metropolitan
Police, suspects the murderer is in fact an assassin he calls the Wraith. The
problem is Thain is the only one who believes the assassin exists. Disregarding
his coworker’s ridicule, Thain means to exploit the Wraith’s
first-and-only-mistake; the kidnapping of an innocent bystander- if she is
innocent. Thain will do whatever it takes to prove the existence of the Wraith,
and bring him to justice.
One might find redemption, one release, and one may find love is more
important than being right.
©2011
©2011
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