Pantsing It

Just as I have no idea if this book will turn out even remotely acceptable. If it doesn’t, that’s okay. It’s being written because I have to write it. It is like a purge, getting the bottled up energy out of my system, while I let the story have its way. Will I finish it? Will it take me to a place where it shows me a conclusion? Will I get halfway through, and find that it has abandoned me along a roadside somewhere, with no way to continue the journey?

I guess I’ll find out.

NaNo Again, 2016

Then, this evening, I was washing dishes. Suddenly, there was a story knocking at the inside of my brain. It wasn’t just the bare concept of a story, but actually had the rudiments of a plot, some interesting characters, a conflict, potential danger…. It wasn’t enough to be a full-grown book, but what book starts out fully grown?