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November 23, 2005

Blues, Blacks, and Purples. Moonlight on the Shelf.

Even longer day today. The closer I get to my deadline, the closer I get to the end of the book, the more I pour it on. It seems right. It's only reflective of the pace of the narrative. And if writing is being multiple actors, then making this book is like being in character for weeks straight. So my life is beginning to reflect the needs of my story. And how could it be any other way?

Seriously, though (that's the "I Absolve Me" of introductory phrases), We are into Act III, and rolling. I see it happening right on time, though I may beg my editor for a few extra days to edit and connect things on a capillary level. Sometimes it's that one or two moments of fine detail work that can elevate a work enough to make it memorable.

And now, I know how it will end. I have everyone's arc scripted at this point. And I won't give anything away, but I ended up liking Iago's character more than I expected. Which I like. I like characters to have depth. Well, except some, who are delightful as the archetypes they must be. I really enjoyed all of them. A few are less well-drawn than others, but it is all conscious. you don't want the entire psychological map of every single player, scrawled out and wrapping around every single plot point. That would be indiscriminate, distracting, and offensive.

I have only 60 pages more to go, to meet my page count. Today I wrote 18. I'd say that's four more days, if I don't take a day off. Assuming certain hours and breaks for side development, rereads, physical requirements; judging productivity averaging past week's habits...but I will take a day off, as it's Thanksgiving, and family is coming over. But I hate to just break now....I'm deep in the mix. Must take advantage of unbroken concentration. Will write a few hours early tomorrow. Rah.

How I do love bringing a character to life. How I do love it when he or she outgrows my initial sketch, or inspiration, or reference. Takes off on his own, wakes me up, wanting to run. Shows me her eyes, even when I'm not looking. And how I do love the organic, serendipitous dance that creative energy does through the filters in my fingertips. How I do love when loose ends begin connecting in that kinetic, intuitive way...four pages forward, two problems heal together. Three pages more, that problem is now a perfect device to move the story where you want it to go. And one more fresh idea is born to help you travel there.

And all with a logic that seems wiser than you could have been at the moment. As if some part of you has been reading every single line in the book at once. But that's what I was talking about yesterday. That's the "subconscious" mind, or the intuitive mind, or the autopilot part that's trained, or that is indefinable Gift. Whatever it is, it works. I guess, what I'm saying over the course of many posts is how much I love those parts of my craft that I do not feel I consciously control. Ironic, that.

Happy day to you, whatever you are doing this day, and tomorrow. Regardless of dinner choice, it's one more day to feel grateful for the gifts I have and can give, and the life that I live, and the people who share this boat with me, whilst we ride.

'night.

joaquín ramón herrera writes for children, adults, and other humans found elsewhere in the continuum of development. He is also an illustrator, musician, and surprise protagonist. If you have found his glasses, wallet, or keys, please contact him here.

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