I'm lost in the jungle of what began as a good idea. It's that murky beginning where the spark that inspired the story is now blurred by the wasteland that currently harbors both plot and characters. On days like this I want to pitch the whole story back into the muck and tell them (the characters) where they can take their little problems. But then one will rise waist deep in muck and scream at me that their problems aren't so trivial and they need to be dealt with. And maybe if I'd just listen I'd get that I was pushing the plot in totally the wrong direction. "Keep digging," she, as yet unnamed heroine, shouts.
Yes, that's the beginning of a story and an emerging plot. A great idea that gets derailed time and again by logic until one day, the eureka moment and the story steams ahead. I keep telling myself that as I toil through the early stages. In the meantime there is endless coffee and blurred vision. It's a tough place to be after emerging from the joys and contagion of a completed story. But the story I loved, the one that preceded this one, will soon be replaced by a story I love even more. I know this but in the early stages, as I wait for the characters to emerge in three dimensional glory - well all I can say is "more coffee".