Wednesday, August 9, 2017

A Ticklish Procedure

          I. am. terrified.

     This next scene is supposed to be big.  It's supposed to be powerful.  Climatic.  Thrilling.  Intense.  The peak for the reader.  This is my culmination of everything.

       What if it comes out flat?

     I am genuinely worried about this.  It is so big in my head, but what if I can't make other people see that?  What if my Mona Lisa looks like a stick figure when I put her on paper?


     I remember some famous author (I have forgotten who) talking about what a ticklish procedure it is to extract a story from your head and put it onto paper.  He warned that sometimes stories don't survive the transplant and sometimes he wondered if it was worth the effort at all.

        Please, please, please, turn out well!

[P.S. The picture is one of those encouraging phrases people use in birth.  I'm a midwife.  I have lots of pretty, encouraging phrases laying around.  Surely one of them will apply to writing, right?]


  1. This is how I felt writing my whole Snow White story. Every single scene. At this point I'm getting ready to send it to beta-readers and I'm scared they'll think it's rushed or flat or the worldbuilding is thin, or something. But there's always revision, or even drastic rewriting if necessary. We can't create ex nihilo, so we need to accumulate our raw materials --- the first draft --- before we can shape them into something good.

  2. Good encouragement from both of you! Thank you!