I don’t feel well. I have a mountain of work, and a spring virus has destroyed my very tight schedule. I would bang my head if I didn’t already feel so crappy.
Today I have a client’s MS to begin editing.
Today I have revisions of my own to make on a ms I am getting ready to publish.
Today I was supposed to have a blog post ready to post on structuring the epic fantasy novel.
We were going to talk about the story arc, and how the third quarter of the book always begins with another life-changing plot-point. I was going to talk about how the the plot drives personal growth for the protagonist and his/her friends at this point.
And then I was going to discuss how this is the place where the protagonists often lose their faith or have a crisis of conscience. What personal revelations come out about the protagonist, or conversely what does he discover about himself?
I had intended to discuss how difficult this part of the novel often is to write, due to the fact that the protagonist has been put through a personal death of sorts–his world has been destroyed or shaken to the foundations and he no longer has faith in himself or the people he once looked up to.
- How is he/she emotionally destroyed by the events?
- How was her/his own personal weakness responsible for this turn of events?
- How does this cause the protagonist to question everything she ever believed in?
- What makes him pull himself together and just keep on going?
- How is she different after this personal death and rebirth event?
I had intended to talk about that, but I don’t want to expose you to this crummy virus. It always puts me through the emotional wringer to write this particular section of a tale, and I don’t feel well, so I can’t deal with talking about it. This low point is such a crucial part of the hero’s journey, the place during which he is taken down to his component parts emotionally, and rebuilds himself to be more than he ever believed he could be.
This is where she makes the hard decisions and learns that she truly does have the balls to do the job–
But I am too sick to talk about it.
I blame The Boy. He was sniffling during his visit last week, and you know what a germ factory the average eight-year-old is.