Just enjoyed another True Blood episode on HBO. Sometimes I wish I was writing contemporary fantasy/paranormal, since it is a genre I enjoy. But I haven't had the urge to write in the genre with the exception of a half forgotten idea that is coming back to me as I type this. I think it had something to do with werewolves and a laundromat. Maybe it's good that that concept apparently got thrown into my mental trash bin, because it sounds kinda silly as I read over what I just typed.
I feel like the new novel is taking on a life of its own now. It's established some strange inertia that is propelling it from my head onto the virtual page. It's a great feeling, but it also leaves me with a sudden feeling that the story has left my control to some extent.
Now this may sound odd, because, obviously, I am writing the novel and I can change anything I want to at any time I want to. But I know better than to try to get in the way of my process now that I am just basically dictating the story into my word processor.
I think what I can conclude from this is that I have already written this novel in my head. It is almost a completed draft, and the incomplete parts are filling in as a necessary consequence of their context within the larger story. If I wanted to make fundamental plot changes, I probably should have done it months ago when I was imagining the core concepts and plot points that are making up the story.
Of course, I could be getting ahead of myself. Maybe I'll hit a conceptual wall and I'll need to go back into full bore imagination "mode" in order to get through it. But after this weekend, I think that that is an unlikely scenario. The writing has been flowing as quickly as I can type. But it does come with a concomitant mental energy expenditure. That could slow me down as I head back to the reality of my day job tomorrow. We shall see...
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