It's been since November 2024 that I have been working on Summer of '89. One and a half years. It feels longer because I have no sense of time, and because I have gone through A LOT to get to where I am today.
There's been a lot of development in this novel, of both my characters and myself. I'm not sure I have ever been so changed by something I am writing, but I hope that bodes well for anyone who might read it that it might be changing for them as well.
I have used the Save the Cat beatsheet to write the last couple novels I have been working on, and I have to say, it's been life changing too. If you are familiar with the beat sheets from Save the Cat, you know there are three acts and multiple beats within the acts. I used to just be what is called a pantser, which is a writer who just dives in without an outline or beat sheet, and I clearly needed to try something different. Someone (my perimenopausal brain ate that info) recommended this book, and I've carried it with me as my main reference since. I even got the Save the Cat Writes a Young Adult Novel because Summer of '89 is probably that genre and there are some specific things about it that I need to work with. But the original novel version is fine for most things, but there are specialty ones as well.
Anyway, back to the beat sheet. I was having issues with the 3rd act. It seemed that my main character had TWO Dark Nights of the Soul, one right after enough, and the end of the novel seemed to be on the other side of that second Dark Night of the Soul. But I was stuck. It felt weird for there to be TWO Dark Nights of the Soul. And I realized today, after months of literally struggling with it that there are definitely NOT TWO Dark Nights of the Soul for Joanie. There's one, and a distinct ending, and the other one is part of a second book.
How it took months for me to realize that is beyond me because it seems obvious. I will just blame it on perimenopause because it's making everything harder in the worst possible ways (but that's for another post).
Here's to persevering and waiting for the goods to be delivered. I am not a patient person. I often want the thing I am waiting on RIGHT NOW, like most people, and when it comes to writing, I have found that I can't always break through. That's why I have 35+ years of unpublished and unproduced novels and plays. I walk away, thinking I will come back (and sometimes I have) but still, the mountain of undone work remains. And taunts me--which again is another post.
But this time, I have remained with Summer of '89, waiting, writing myself in and out of corners, giving myself space if I need it. Luckily, applications for writer residencies and retreats have come up at the right times to give me the space I wouldn't just give myself. And life has a way of behaving badly and killing long loved cats and mother-in-laws, and also making mental health challenges for EVERYONE so that there's forced downtime. Maybe I just need to learn to listen and this wouldn't happen. Who knows, but I got through this and I have an end to my novel.
Now I just need to untangle that great wild beyond of the middle of the novel, and then we will see where we are.
Maybe this fall.
No comments:
Post a Comment