I spent last week at my Grandmother’s farm trying to pound out the end of this book-thing I’m working on. West is the title and the direction Mercator is running in. He’s almost there…
I’m not going to lie, writing this book has been quite a bit like running through a maze where every once in a while you have no choice but to knock down a wall using your head. Hit one of those walls last week, didn’t expect to, but I did. I must have rewritten those pages five times trying to get it down to one.
One bad thing about writing fantasy is having to translate a hugely complicated bit of history or metaphysics into a tiny easy to read package. I’m writing for kids after all. I just keep writing the same bit of explanation over and over until I figure out what the most important bits are. I just keep pruning away until all that is left. All I want is enough to get the gist of the situation and hopefully keep a hint of the background. If it isn’t necessary for the moment and the story, it goes. It’s hard work, but it’s also fun to play with the words. Dialogue is always fun.
I’m afraid that’s all I have. I’d better get back to this brick wall. One more solid hit should bring it down.