I was going along at warp speed with my work in progress (Booktown #5) until my copy edit for Chapter & Hearse showed up. Then work came to a screeching halt. (And it will again this weekend, when I have to put it back on the shelf to get the synopsis written for Victoria Square #2.)
For the past two weeks, I've been tippy-toeing around the manuscript. I'd add a sentence here, rearrange a paragraph there . . . but no real progress was made. It was time to sit down and read what I had, and I feared that what I had was one HUGE mess.
The problem turned out to be that I didn't know what day of the week the story started on. I had over 100 pages (about a third) of the book written, and I still wasn't sure where it began.
I first thought the story started on Saturday, but then that would mean Tricia needed to go to the bank on Sunday. Can't have that--the bank isn't open on Sunday. So I backed it up to Friday. Still didn't work, because something else had to happen on Sunday, and Ginny doesn't work at Haven't Got a Clue on Sundays. Is it logical to start the Founders Day Weekend on Thursday? Well, it might be, if the Ferris wheel and puke-a-whirl have to be somewhere else by Saturday.
You see my problem?
Yesterday, I spent two hours tweaking the timeline, moving scenes around, and writing transitions. When I started, I had only six chapters in place. By rearranging scenes, and putting things in order (a lot of times I'll write random scenes as I think of them, and then put them together later, rather like a big jigsaw puzzle), I now have eleven chapters. Whew! that feels more orderly.
I guess that's what I hate most about starting a book. There's no real sense of order. And when things finally start clicking in place, that's when the fun starts to happen. Usually about 40,000 words. Not quite there yet, but I won't be approaching the day's work with quite so much apprehension.
What makes it doubly frustrating, is I can only talk about it in general terms. I wouldn't want to spoil it for my readers.
