This has been a hard day. Capping off a mental rollercoaster of a week. I started writing a new book. One of about five different books I am currently writing. But this one is different. It has more of me in it than the others. Sure, I used elements of my life and the people I know in my other books, but this book has the raw demon that still haunts the back of my mind. I knew one day I would write about this character, I just thought it would be years down the road when I could distance myself from it.
Writing the first few paragraphs had me sobbing and when I go back to rewrite I cry all over again. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or bad. All I know is I have to get this story out.
Ideas come to me in degrees: Cool, Warm & Hot. A cool book I save the idea to write much later. A warm book I might start working on the concept, characters, etc. A hot book I have to start writing immediately, which is what this book is, hot!
She is the most alive character I have written and, on top of that, the other characters around her are effortlessly real too. How they all tick and relate to one another is coming much easier to me than anything else.
You may wonder what I am complaining about, but the main character is depressed and, so therefore I am as well. I walk through every day as if she is controlling me. I want to shake this, but at the same time I don’t. I am afraid the book will suffer if I lose it, her.
My hope is, when I do finish this story, my husband and editor don’t read it and say, “This is all wrong!” that would break me. I don’t know. I guess I’ll keep writing and see what happens.