In my continuing efforts to note all things truly odd (i.e. weird,
frighteningly eccentric) about my writing process, I have come across a new
one.
*hears lots of shuffling in the
blog audience*
*raises hands and calms…*
No, don’t worry, everyone. Neither hard hats nor plastic ponchos will
be required for this strangeness. You can tuck all that paraphernalia back
under your seat for next time.
This oddity is particularly formal.
In fact, cummerbunds and bow-ties might be appropriate for the reading
of this post. But I’ll leave that up to your individual discretion.
As I’ve been happily plodding and plotting through the writing of Book
Three, I noticed yesterday that a certain new character has failed to arrive to
the party yet.
Oh, this woman’s presence is there. She is talked about considerably.
Whole scenes revolve around her actions and inactions. A true supporting
character she is. Think of Melanie in “Gone with the Wind” or Leia in “Star
Wars.” Neither story could have gone on without their third or fourth billed
star.
Well, my Melanie in Book Three is just as important and with ¼ of the
novel written, she really should have stepped out of her dressing room by now.
She hasn’t.
A place card simply stands in her stead.
With an elegant font, her name has been embossed in silver on a 3x2”
piece of thick card stock. The card lies propped up against her empty wine
glass, while her chair remains tucked firmly under the long dining table.
The other guests have been mulling about for quite a while now, a great
number of their conversations revolving around her.
Her absence is becoming rather palpable.
And worrisome.
And weird.
Why I can’t seem to put a body, a voice, a personality beyond a
backstory to this woman is a mystery. It’s like I just can’t find the right
actress to play the frankly juicy part.
So, I’m left with a place card.
*sighs*
At this point, I’m just hoping the dame arrives before the dessert
course.
Until tomorrow…
Chloe
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