Between taking Lady Orchid and her three seedlings to the beach, entertaining said sea monkeys while their mummy learned the fine art of horseless charioteering and a gamut of other fun things, I managed to turn a surgeon’s eye toward Refuge. Unfortunately, despite all the weekend’s goodness, I found something lurking in the story’s guts.
Refuge’s second scene revolves around the mutant menace’ leader. He’s in what passes for a maternity ward in his post-apocalyptic hell hole consulting with a physician over the first viable child born solely of mutant parents. At the time of writing, this scene seemed like a pretty big deal. Scavenger Hunt makes it pretty clear that inter-mutant reproduction is impossible as an unchanged humans must be involved in the process.
This little piece of information has always been something I’ve wanted to put into the overall story, but in hindsight, I don’t think book 2 is the place for it to happen. In fact, throwing in the mutie-mating derailed the story I actually wanted to tell.
So, I’ve cut 15k worth of writing and throw it into a drawer somewhere. That may have been a bit painful, but on the plus side, I’ve worked out why the story felt slow and stilted.
Anyway, that’s enough from me. I have a second draft to write.
Refuge’s done and dusted, ‘The End’ has been written. I did say I’d leave it a while and write something else before grabbing the red pen. As it turns out, I’m an impatient sort.
Because I’ve been writing this one mostly blind (that’ll remind me to back up my work), I had the feeling I’d lost the intended story somewhere en route. With everything said and done, I realised that was indeed the case. The story I had was not the story I wanted and things were too far put to tie up with the planned route of part three.
I could have left things as they were, tickled the manuscript into shape and worked from the back of that to adjust the next story. That’s not what I did. Instead, I’ve spent the past few hours reading, editting and looking for where things went wrong. I then dumped 15 thousand words in one key stroke.
That may sound a little bad but although that’s a fair bit of work rejected, I’d say it’s a good thing. Although it’ll take time to put the errors right, it means that I’m not putting out work I’m not happy with.
Early mornings and long days have got me a bit on the back foot. It’s too be expected, what with the sun shining and the birds singing. Real work floods my days at this time of year, so the rewarding work has to get relegated to stolen moments.
In spite of everything book 2, draft 1 is complete. It weighs in at a little longer than scav, but the insides are a whole lot messier. I think I’m going to give this one some time to rest before I set about some red pen surgery.
As if to celebrate the final words going down on book 2, my meteorological masters have taken it upon themselves to watch the world drown. To celebrate the unexpected day off, I’ll be hammering out as many words as I can in the new few hours, though I’ll probably do some yoga first.