TJ Wilde Trilogy · Duxbridge Mysteries · Jennifer McCaffrey Mysteries
A gift from a friend who knows me well
Rewrites are progressing. Got past the awful chapter, it will have to be reviewed and tweaked a few more times, I’m sure. I am determined to power through the few remaining chapters in the next week.
I love fall. We have very few reds here, unlike the East Coast, but the Aspens do their best to help us forget that. I’m not complaining, My wildflower front yard has some spectacular fall into winter colors that hang out until spring.
This week went well. I’m traveling again, so I made an effort to do some substantial writing over the weekend before I left. Where I felt like Act One needed all the main characters fleshed out more, Act Two is more about storytelling transitions.
Continuing the discussion on the rewrites for Full Sail and what is working and what is most definitely not.
By the time I was editing chapters twelve and thirteen, I knew I had to stop and regroup. The entire feel of the book was off. And most importantly, I had lost TJ’s voice around chapter five.
TJ’s voice is complex and filled with self-deprecation, humor, self-doubt and defiance. Sharp edges and deep emotions. And somehow, I had flattened out all her fun curves.
The only way I knew to find her again was to go back to the beginning. And the beginning was Run Aground. I queued up the audiobook and began to rediscover my muse.
When I can manage to write again, I think she is back strong, in all her depth and complexity. I suspect, as I return to the process, she’ll bring me comfort as we complete our journey together.
I wrote this on social media this week: “I feel like I have hammered and honed chapter two into a lovely opening to act 1.” No matter how I might gripe about the process, rewrites are actually very satisfying. Watching a story come sharply into focus is thrilling.
As I mentioned last week, Full Sail, the third book in the TJ Wilde Trilogy, needs some major rewrites. The problems were glaring by the time I hit chapters twelve and thirteen.
This week, nothing has gone as planned. My dad is in the hospital, soon to move to rehab for a few weeks. Nick left us unexpectedly. My recovery has been longer than I would like, mostly with lots of sleeping.
Annie DeMoranville 