So I went back to the Dark Book this week and knocked out another 2,096 words. I've finished out chapter 17, and I'm moving on to the next series of chaotic events designed to torment my struggling crew of characters.
Tough times up in this here space ship. Don't worry though, things will get better. Maybe? I guess I can't really promise that at this juncture. Hrm.
Anyone find themselves feeling bad for their characters, even when you know it's for the greater good of the story?
Well, if you do, you can always find someone else to suffer for you! Haha! Ask my friend Jenn. After all, she was the one who suggested a certain, innocent character kick off in the first trilogy I ever started writing. (My back burner project, high fantasy, where my first manuscript in the series is 240,000 words. Yikes!) And honestly, the suggestion makes the story (at least in my head) be much more epic (and not just in terms of word count).
I make her feel bad ALL the time about it, even though I haven't written the death yet - meaning, that particular character is still alive. For now. My big plan is to send her any hate mail I ever get regarding the numerous amounts of characters I intentionally to kill, the characters who get themselves killed outside my control, and the characters who decide they need to die even if I'm against the decision.
So as long as I keep up this little delusion, I'm free to be as terrible as I want, right?
P.S. Don't worry, I know I have to cut that manuscript down with a chainsaw and a meat grinder. That is the very reason it sits patiently at the back of the line.