For almost two years now, I’ve been ignoring a young adult book I’d started writing. The printed out pages of critiqued chapters lay on the corner of my desk, haunting me, reminding me that there’s story which is far from finished.
I’m not really sure why I stopped writing it. I could blame the circumstances in my personal life (ie I had a baby) but that would be lying. It probably had more to do with the fact that I knew I was coming to a point where I didn’t know how to continue. I had the plot of three more chapters planned out in my head. As for the rest, I only know how I want the novel to end. I haven’t got a clue how to get my characters there.
Anyway, I had a deadline for my writing group looming over me and no story idea. All I could think of were the three unwritten chapters already planned out. Out of desperation I chose to write two of these. And what I discovered was… I had really missed my characters. I so enjoyed writing it and they all came back alive again.
I’m still not sure where to go from here but I know I want to find out. It’ll hopefully be like E.L.Doctorow said:
Writing a novel is like driving a car at night. You can only see as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.
I just had to get back on the road, and now I have to keep on driving. I can’t wait to write my next chapter…