The Writing Moment
I wrote another ending to my novel in progress the other day. I think this one might stick. Man, what a glorious, exciting, invigorating, disturbing, worrying day that once after wrote it. I was so excited as I wrote that I began vibrating inside. I want to believe that it’s a good ending — hey, I do believe it is — but until others read it and judge it, I won’t know. Or rather, it’ll always be good to me, but may not be good to others. That’s how reading goes.
The novel isn’t done. I’d become semi-paralyzed by thinking over the ending. I kept rolling it through my head, coming up with possibilities, and then shooting them down for different, valid reasons. The one that finally landed was a surprise but feels right. I hope it holds together through the editing, revising, publishing process.
Meanwhile, to finish the novel, I need to go back and write the climax. Sounds funny but that’s how it worked in the case of this book. Several different arcs need pulled together; in writing the ending, I saw how the arcs should be handled. Now to wrangle the words and make it work.
Okay, back to writing like crazy.
The Writing Moment
I’ve re-written the last 20% of the current novel in progress. Again, I guess. Guided by muses, and getting out of my own way, I added a whole other first section. Started it on Dec 26, 2024. Finished that section yesterday. How well it fit in really surprised me. I sweated and cringed as I wrote, wondering with clenched teeth, where is this all going? How does it tie together? But while I fretted over those things and tried my hardest to step up in front of myself and squirm and overanalyze, something inside me managed to push me aside again and again, and keep writing.
Then, suddenly, OMG, plot twist. And another one. And another.
I’ll tell you, all these plot twists make me nervous.
Am I close to writing a final ‘the end’? Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps… I can’t seem to really say. There’s a writer in me who took over, and he/she/they don’t let on about what they’re doing. I’m just going to sit down, gulp up coffee, write like crazy, and see what’s delivered.
The Writing Moment
I entertained myself over the last few days with novel writing. Unexpected directions and ideas were advanced. Muses introduced settings, characters, and moments I’d not anticipated.
Then, last night and this morning, panic. OMG, how does this all fit together? Some of it comes across as a little friggin’ nuts, as in crazy, insane, and maybe…cringe…ridiculous.
A brave contingency of being spoke up, trying to soothe me by reminding me, don’t worry, don’t overthink it, just get out of your own way and let it happen. This is good that you’re uncomfortable and nervous about what’s happening. They cited numerous writers who claim that if it’s going too well, it’s probably bad, ergo, feeling bad about progress is actually good.
Yes, sure, I try to accept that. Tell myself, swallow hard. Keep going. Don’t judge it until it’s done as one piece.
Easy for you to say, the neurotic doubters retort. Then all agree, let’s just go write like crazy, at least one more time. See where it takes us.
And away we go.
The Writing Moment
I finished a draft of a novel (working title: Gravity’s Emotions) right before going into my October ankle surgery. Then, reading novels, stuck in variations of being on my back with my ankle in a boot raised at about 45 degrees, I concluded, I dislike that ending. Too damn pat.
Muses flew in with suggested revisions. It’ll be work, they warned. We’re gonna need to go back in and cut several chapters.
Okay, I agreed. Sharpen the blades.
I read through the novel without making changes except for egregious typos, punctuation, or grammar. By the finish, I knew where to begin cutting and went in.
Next came writing the replacement parts. This presented significantly greater challenges. Writing the replacement scenes has been word-to-word combat. But with all my fiction writing efforts, it’s ultimately a satisfying mental exercise. Squeezing characters and concept to wring out the story and then developing it into something rewarding to read is fundamentally entertaining for me. I’d rather be doing this than anything else.
Chapter by chapter, I’m edging toward the terminus. I don’t know how it’ll end. I sense I’m close. I’m just going to let it sneak up on me and take me by surprise.
That’s my favorite kind of writing.
Michael Seidel, writer 