I was just talking to my sister and, in between the already building Christmas family drama, she mentioned how my blog seemed to be coming along great. Gulp…now I’ve got expectations to live up to! Hopefully, they aren’t great expectations (insert groan and ba-dump-bump here).
I’ve been staring at, ignoring, rearranging paragraphs, re-rearranging paragraphs and otherwise dancing around the next few scenes in Julia. There was a reason I blatantly ignored these scenes in my first draft. And that reason is coming back full force: I never did my homework.
Julia is a social worker. It’s important that she’s a social worker. It’s who she is. It’s vital to the story, so, no, Mom, I can’t just make her something else. That just leaves one thing to do: research.
And researching involves questions and interviews: all stuff that makes me squirm. I feel like I’m imposing. Even if I know the person well. Even if the person says it’s OK to pepper them with questions.
I admire the writer’s who waltz into (name place of business) and say “hey, I’m a writer and I want to write about your job. Tell em what you know.”
I’m an introvert who, as introverts tend to, likes being behind the scene. I always assumed that’s what writing would be like: me in a room alone, imagining great worlds and adventures. Well, it turns out that creating all those worlds and adventures requires leaving that room and interacting with people in an extroverted kind of way.
I know I have guts…I just can’t remember where I left them. If you find them, can you send them my way?