You wouldn’t think there’d be a lot of excitement in writing a novel. Like, you’re just sitting there, writing. But that’s only on the outside. On the inside, you’re living the story. Seeing, hearing, feeling, being.
It’s the only way to make it come alive for your readers.
I’ve come very far along with The Silver Trumpet (No. 10 in my Bell Mountain series), having been at it since April: 40 chapters, in fact. Even so, as of yesterday, I had absolutely no idea how the story should end.
Years ago, my procedure was to dope out the whole plot, along with all the subplots, before I wrote a word. Everything was on color-coded index cards, with extra material, like detailed biographies for all the major characters. in notebooks.
I don’t do it that way anymore. Instead, I just send up a prayer, asking the Lord to give me the story He wants me to tell, and start writing. I generally don’t know where I’m going till I’m almost there, and I get a lot of surprises along the way.
Yesterday I went to the eye doctor and couldn’t write when I got home, my eyes being too dilated to see properly. So I sat outside, taking advantage of a gorgeously sunny day, with my Mr. Cool sunglasses and a nice cigar, just sitting.
And then, as Rocky Graziano used to say, wham!–it hit me. The whole climax of The Silver Trumpet flashed into my brain in less time than it takes me to tell you about it. It was God answering my prayer, and in a way He has done several times before. I have to say it’s kind of overwhelming!
And I love it.
Now I can go straight ahead and write the rest of the book. I know what I have to do, and all I’ve got to do is write it. I asked the Lord to lead me, and He has.
If I can just get it all done before the cold weather kicks in…