It has been a vair exciting couple of weeks at my writing desk. (Not for followers of this blog, mind you…) I have been working away at what has become 20 pages of action-packed goodness that I’m afraid may have sent my Google into a state of shock. Thoughts of hypovolemia, exsanguination, bruised kidneys, merrows, how long a person can survive with a bleeding femoral artery, and cauterization are sure to keep my laptop up all night for the next couple of weeks. (Uhm… several-years-before-actual-publishing spoiler alert?) I might have to sooth it with searches of medieval style dresses, Bill Bailey’s Chaucer Pubbe Gagge, and Katy Rusby music.
It was an event that I was not supposed to be writing about (it takes place many years and chapters down the line from where I currently stand), but which had been floating in my head lo these past five years. Needless to say a draft written before I graduated high school deserves to be revisited now that I have a university degree. I’ve been trying to behave and write in order, with the occasional indulgence in writing scenes which take place before the novel begins, but still inform the characters as the reader knows them. I just could not ignore the tempting call of this quick-paced and pivotal moment.
With constant plaguing thoughts about editing, fictional history, and writer’s block, sometimes it’s worth it to take that scene that’s been gnawing in your head and run with it, regardless of where it stands in your current project or body of work. My imagination has not been this engaged in my own story for quite a while, and I am quite happy to keep following this string until it leads me to a cliff. Then it will be back to the complicated and not-entirely-formulated politik of where I was before. But maybe all of that will sort itself out by the time I get back to it. Because that’s how writing works, right?