further up & further in.

The faces that make up Corruption, one of my latest projects.
Someday, they'll become brave enough to let me introduce them to you.

A lot has been up in the air with regards to my writing as of late.

In short, I'm not doing Camp NaNo. Yet.

August is the lucky charm, baby.

No, in all seriousness, I've been struggling with writing. The words won't come. I'm struggling with self-doubt. And wondering big, BIG questions such as, "What is it that I am called to write?"

I've always been very versatile with genres. I've written stuff that can only be defined as "chick-lit." I've written something that was some kind of weird suspense-novel-thing. I've written fantasy, which I love. But I have all these plots inside my head that don't fit inside these genres. Dystopic plots, plots about superheroes, plots about where the world has gone all wrong. Plots with guns and spaceships and hovercrafts. Plots with time travel and sunflowers and distant memories.

The problem is, I stink at writing sci-fi. More aptly, I don't know how to write sci-fi. When it comes to shows, I love it. I love watching things like Star Trek. I was practically raised on Star Trek. And more recently, I've been working my way through Doctor Who. I love the stars, the ships, the star captains, the intrigue. I do love it.

But I don't know how to write it.

This recently came to my attention when Corruption's plot completely fell apart. Two days before June's edition of Camp NaNo was supposed to begin.

It. Was. Insane.

I don't even know how to describe the emotions that went through me. I had a plot. I had thirteen beautiful chapters of semi-outlined material and then it... just... vanished.

Well, not exactly. I will admit that there were some events leading up to the sudden Vanishing of My Plot. I'd been struggling with a scene that involved a hovercraft chase and then fighting on foot. I personally think I stink at writing contemporary or futuristic combat scenes. Swords, I like. I don't know much about them, but I can muddle through writing a duel well enough. As for guns... well, it's not that I don't like them. I just don't know anything about them. And I had no idea how to get my main characters out of the situation they were currently in. Outnumbered. In a desert with three guys on their trail. With a broken down hovercraft. Oh, and did I mention that one of the characters was in a wheelchair?

So there was a bit of foreshadowing leading up to the sudden Vanishing of My Plot. It's just that when it did vanish, it was abrupt, unexpected, and well... sudden. Not to mention untimely. Thirteen chapters of my outline were now scrapped because I took the time to poke a stick at my plot.

As the Doctor says, "There is something here that doesn't make sense… Let's go poke it with a stick!" I didn't expect my plot to completely collapse when I did so. Whatever sense my plot did have soon escaped like air oozing out of a deflated balloon. Normally I'd try to work around it, but I'd made it several choices that completely changed the flavor of the book and the way I wanted this novel to be. I need time to get it back to the way it was, and two days wasn't nearly enough.

There are a plethora of other reasons why I won't be attempting June NaNo. I've been struggling with inspiration for a while now, and I guess that the only thing I can do is take a break. If I tried to write now, it would just create more frustration.

Not only that, but I prayed about it, and I felt God telling me to aim for August. Add to that some relational and emotional stress, and I wasn't sure I could write at all. It's a good thing too because when June began, the aforementioned emotional stress intensified. These emotions, ironically enough, are similar to ones that Elleri experiences in Corruption's plot, though I didn't plan it at the time. My plot collapsing was just the icing on the cake. As I've been thinking all week, Corruption's plot is now corrupted. :P

So I'm taking some time off. To think... pray... recover... heal. I've actually been getting inspiration for other projects like Silver Tears (which still needs a good ending) and Souvenirs (which I've deemed my two-year-trouble-child). I was surprised when inspiration for Souvenirs started to appear, as it's been a difficult project for nearly all of its existence.

My inspiration is returning. It's just taking its own sweet time.

I may end up finishing Silver Tears in July. Or I may need to wait and let my inspiration return. Hopefully by August, I'll feel up to writing this story. Or maybe another. After all, August may just be the lucky charm. (I certainly hope so!)

I stumbled across a new character development tool for writers, and the idea intrigued me. Started by Rosamund Gregory, the goal of this new monthly blog event is to focus on first person character development. As she says, "it's very good to be able to get inside one's characters' minds in order to understand them. Even if you're writing in third person, you learn new things about your friends that you would never have known otherwise." This new prospect is titled Character Letters, and the description is pretty much what it sounds like: Write a letter from the perspective of your character.

For this round, I've decided to use Elleri Cay Bastion, the main character in my Camp NaNoWriMo novel, Corruption. As I've mentioned before in her Beautiful People post, Elleri lives in a refuge for superheroes. It's got a long, complicated history, but in short, it was founded by Heath and Elleri's mom, Catie. Unfortunately, Catie died, which profoundly affected all of those who knew her. Elleri's fellow students are Theo and Ayden, and you'll get to know them a bit more in this letter. (I've been pondering the idea of putting a post together introducing my entire cast. Would you like that?)

Elleri wrote this letter in her sketchbook, on a plain piece of tan paper. Her handwriting is simple and straightforward. She's more of an artist than a writer, and doesn't believe much in her writing abilities. But she is an artist, so she can use artistic and poetic metaphors to get the point across when she feels the need.

One of the prompts to choose from this month is yesterday's events. I didn't stick to that idea as much as I could have, but I felt like a little introduction was necessary to help you understand Elleri. Enjoy.

—

Dear Mom,

I miss you. I guess I should get that out of the way before I say anything else.

It's just the same old routine since you left. Not much has changed by way of our schooling and everyday life. Emotionally, we're all different, but our life has carried on, whether we wanted it to or not. And of course, Zane has left, but other than that, it's just me, Theo, Ayden, and Heath.

Heath misses you. I know he does. It's not the same without you. To be honest, if he had to pick between the death of you and the death of me, I think he'd pick me. It's understandable, of course. He loved you, you know.

Ayden, Theo, and I are continuing our studies. We're pretty much the Three Musketeers. Heath keeps to himself most of the time. There's still a huge hole where you left. You were so patient. I miss your smile, your sweet kindness. It's not only Heath that has suffered from your loss. We all have.

Yesterday the three of us went out into "the real world" for the first time in a long while. Heath was reluctant to let us go. It's getting harder to hide our powers. You know that. I guess I have it the easiest out of all of them. All I have to do is slap on a pair of sunglasses. Ayden, though... man. How on earth does he hide the flames that burst from his fingertips? He's learned how to hide it well. We all have.

Our trip out into the open air yesterday was for once motivated for fun rather than necessity. I brought my sketchbook. It's autumn now. The leaves are crimson. You used to love this time of year. It was nice to just walk leisurely through the park. We don't do that nearly often enough. For once I felt at least halfway normal. Almost. I had a taste of fun for the first time in what feels like forever.

Ayden met up with some teens who were playing street basketball, so while he was doing that, Theo and I sat on a bench under the shade and talked a lot. You were right, Mom. He is brilliant. He's the only friend I have, and he knows me so very well. He's the only one who really gets me, now that you're gone.

Towards the end of the day, the sun was dipping below the horizon, and we came upon the fountain in the middle of the square. I don't know why, but somehow we all ended up splashing in it. We all came home soaking wet. It was marvelous. We flung water at each other's faces and created quite a scene. It's a wonder we weren't discovered, since my sunglasses fell off several times. I don't know what we were thinking. But it was fun.

You died almost four years ago now. We'll never be the same. I will say that it's a little easier to bear. We've created a new normal for ourselves. I'm almost used to you being gone. And even admitting that hurts.

I love you.

--- Elleri

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