Yesterday my heart really wasn’t into my blog. I’ve been feeling torn about my story’s tone. I think I’ve been over-thinking about who this story is for when really it’s supposed to be for myself, for starters. I finished rewriting the first three chapters of my book and for the moment, I’m happy. I’m happy because I wrote them as adult as I felt like and they finally feel authentic, like how they’re supposed to feel. Sure, they aren’t exactly appropriate for every age, but I can’t worry about that right now. I need to allow my story to become its own force and I can’t let the outside world or what I think the outside world wants affect my story’s voice or its journey. I think I had forgotten about that for a little while. I’m still going to work on getting the first six chapters done, but I also think that my story arc isn’t right. I realized that my outline is only in its first draft and it may be changing a bit. I’m just going to see where things go and try not to control too much of it, like I have been doing. People always say to read the books that you want to write. Well, I love thrillers, especially ones with scientific elements in them. Is it possible to write a sci-fi thriller for a “PG-13” audience? I don’t know, but I’m at the point where I think I’ve finally found myself falling into my voice and it might not be exactly what I expected but I’m not going to fight it.
Of course, this revelation was after a tough night of thinking about my story’s future. I read an amusing quote the other day that definitely summarizes how I’m feeling right now: writing is my favorite way to make myself miserable.
I also finally got a hold of my brother last night. He and I will be having a conference once he looks over what I have thus far.