It’s been almost a year since I’ve posted a blog? A year!
I knew it would take a while to figure this blog thing out, but I did not expect such a dry spell so soon.
But know, dear reader, that I’ve not been wasting time since last September. In the midst of major changes at work, raising four children, and various other hardships, I’ve been immersed in crafting Fear of the Sky’s sequel, There Remains an Ember. And if you don’t know anything about how I name things, know that there are no fewer than three meanings behind that name. I can’t wait for people to uncover them all!
If you’re unfamiliar with what I’m doing with the Fear of the Sky trilogy, here’s a rundown. The first novel takes place in a semi-traditional fantasy though post-apocalyptic setting. Dragons have ravaged all the known world, and people pretty much have to hide to survive. The story revolves around a father trying to save his daughter from being sacrificed to a dragon as a dark god tries to keep humanity in a state of perpetual suffering with that dragon (and others). For the most part, the novel is a stand-alone story. The central conflicts and all three main characters’ arcs are resolved (well, mostly resolved).
So, I had the bright idea to make the second book another stand-alone, complete with entirely new characters living on the other side of the dragon-ruled world. The third book will see the characters from the first two books come together for an adventure.
I was pretty excited about it when I outlined it. Then I started trying to write Book #2 last fall and very quickly realized why the structure I’ve chosen for my trilogy isn’t typical. The struggles I faced trying to get it off the ground are the primary reason I’ve been hiding in a cave since then. Apparently, if I’m struggling to write, I struggle to do anything related to writing as well.
Let me start by saying that when you pour your heart and soul into a book like I did for Fear of the Sky, you love your characters. You love each one as if they are your child and best friend all wrapped into one. You know the depths of their souls. Then there’s the world you built for them. I must have drawn twenty maps of Anuthura, and I tweaked the “final” version countless times as the story demanded it. By the time I got to my final edits, I was operating easily within the novel because I was intimately familiar with every aspect of it. After years of building the world and its people, it was relatively easy to shift pieces around.
Let us return to last fall when I started writing Book #2. I’d decided to set it on tropical islands. I’d added amphibious sea monsters who rival dragons. There was a new civilization to build. There was new weaponry and technology to understand. The religions still needed to be fleshed out without looking like Book #1’s religions. But, most importantly, every character was suddenly a stranger! How would this guy act if his little brother was a total punk? What about if his mother was a drug addict? What about this woman on this little island? What does she like to eat? What are her deepest fears? What annoys her? I didn’t know the answers to any of these questions, so I wasn’t as free to write as I’d been in Book #1’s world.
I can sum up my Book #2 struggles by saying that my creative sandbox was suddenly very alien, and I didn’t know how to play in it. Everything was so hard that I eventually got discouraged. I struggled with writing, honestly, because I wasn’t enjoying it for a while.
But I kept writing. It wasn’t always productive. There was a lot of staring at blank screens. I threw out a lot. I have a document called “There Remains an Ember Scraps.docx” that is roughly fifty thousand words long. It consists of several random scenes and a few whole chapters (including several versions of Chapter 1), and I’ve thrown out every bit of it. EVERYTHING. Including things that some of my friendly test readers liked a lot. I just couldn’t make it work.
Then, about a month ago, I had a breakthrough. I may blog about it one day, but for now I'll just say that I uncovered the heart of Book #2’s story. It’s something I’d known I needed all along without being able to say it. The plot still follows the same basic structure I put together a year ago, but now its heart helps maintain the necessary momentum. I started writing, and before I knew it things were clicking into place like they hadn’t clicked in a long time.
But here’s the kicker: things were only clicking because I finally knew my new island world and characters enough to craft with them. And that was only because I’d gone through the soul-sucking experience of writing fifty thousand words about that island world and those characters when I hadn’t known how to craft with them. You see, a funny thing happens when you force yourself to write about something: you learn about it. You uncover your creations, like an archeologist on a dig. You keep going, even when it looks like you’re not getting anywhere, and eventually, you find what you’re after.
I have a lot of people to thank for that endurance because it didn’t come from my wisdom. I saw many other authors posting about similar experiences, which was helpful. And I can't fail to mention how my fantastic agent, Anjanette, provided some very timely insight about how an author should balance thinking about writing with actually writing. That advice lit a fire under me for a while. I’ll reveal exactly what she said one day when I write a blog all about plotting and pantsing.
So, in the end, I’m very happy to report I’m finally back on track. The wind is in my sails again! I promise I will not go eleven months until my next update. And, of course, I must close with a charge to any other creatives who have ever struggled like I did: DON’T QUIT. If you believe you are capable, keep chugging along. Push through the struggles. It will pay off.
Finally, as I love to do, here's some sweet AI art for There Remains an Ember for reading this far!
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