It is our nature, it is our joy to hen-peck every detail.
From set design, to cinematography, to location scouting, to directing
our characters with a Stanley Kubrick-like obsession for that one perfect take,
we want a hand in every aspect of a story.
At least I do.
(For the purposes of this blog, please pretend that I am a “normal”
writer. Thank you.)
So, it is remarkably difficult and frankly a little bit maddening to
stand back and let a story tell itself.
Yep, talking about Book Three of “The Lion and the Steed” series here.
You remember, that fiendishly ornery tale whose tail overtook its
bellybutton last week? The one whose carefully plotted ending simply refused to
wait to the end to be told?
Yep, that little beast.
Well, I’ve finally admitted to myself that Book Three is no longer my
own production. It has struggled and squirmed out of my hands altogether.
Now, I must simply stand back and watch where the story will take me.
I hate that.
Mostly.
A part of me, a tee-tiny, itty-bitty speck of me is kind of excited to
see where my boys will lead me.
So, with much grumbling and fussing and fuming I am trying my darnedest
to keep my hands off this production.
It ain’t easy.
And I hate it.
Mostly.
Until tomorrow…
Chloe
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