The Writing Moment
They were watching a television show. A body landed on the cement behind an FBI agent. The agent was on a cell. The landing body thudded. She flinched and looked back.
His wife said, “That’s not believable. She didn’t even duck.”
“That’s a choice the creative team makes as part of the storytelling. How does the character react to something like that? Are they calm and unfazed or do they freak? That’s part of the show’s tenure and the series’ atmosphere. I make decisions like that all the time when I’m writing, trying to decide how someone reacts and keep them true to the story and character.”
She shrugged. “Whatever.”
Well, it was important to him.
The Writing Moment
Bright sunshine storms the world outside the coffee shop window. Yes, it’s a sunstorm fronting a blue sky, a cruel thing. Exerts the kind of pull felt when he was a teenager and a girl asked him to come to her house to listen to music.
He’s here to write. Edit. Just thirteen months into the novel in progress. Third revision session. Halfway through. Must be done.
With a promise to the day, I’ll join you later, he opens the novel and resumes.
Michael Seidel, writer 