November is over, and so is NaNoWriMo– the big project focused on writing a novel in a month. However, by the end of October (shortly after my last blog), I found out I was pregnant. Yay! My husband and I had been trying to have a baby for, oh, a month or so, and now it’s going to happen! But then… morning sickness hit me like a tornado and I was hurling my guts out for a full month. Needless to say, I didn’t get ANY writing done! Just the thought of writing made me race to the toilet and heave.
But I started feeling better three weeks ago, and with my slightly increased energy came the desire to write. But one question plagued me. What should I write? I finished my dystopian trilogy. I somehow lost the passion for the story I was going to write in November. (That happens when you associate a story with puking.)
So the past three weeks have been spent brainstorming. I’ve started three different stories, unable to find the one that will bring me life again. None of them did. I grew tired and moved on to another story idea. Then I got a bit depressed, because, well, the last two years have been spent writing every day, and now I can’t seem to get more than a paragraph down.
One of the ideas was a Civil War story, and I realized just how hard it is to write historical fiction. It’s nearly impossible! Every little detail has to be looked up– the clothes they wore back then, the food they ate, not to mention that since this was taking place during the Civil War, all the battle details had to be accurate. My respect for historical fiction writers has skyrocketed, while my desire to write historical fiction has declined significantly. The other two stories were complete flops.
So I prayed about it. Maybe God didn’t want me to write anymore. Maybe he wanted me to focus on being a future mom. Maybe He did want me to write, but hasn’t shown me what yet. Maybe He wanted me to keep starting stories until I found one that gave me passion again. I asked Him to show me what to write, because without writing my daily life is pretty bleak.
He told me to listen. So I listened. And I heard music. (Yes, the radio was on… but so was the perfect song.) Life seemed to pour through my veins once again… through music. The song made new ideas spin in my mind until a story had formed.
And I knew exactly what to write.
So far this story has lasted longer than the others. It’s another fantasy novel, but I’m finding that fantasy/futuristic stories are my favorite to write. Hopefully it won’t be a complete flop like the others. And if it is, well, too bad. I’m going to finish it anyway.