Paksworld

No better sign of a really live book than plotbombs, annoying as they are when they arrive as I’m trying to go to sleep because I have to get up early in the morning to be ready for the 8 am plumber, because R- will be somewhere between here and there picking up M from his apartment in the city to take him to the dentist in a city between here and there.  Why couldn’t the plotbombs have arrived at a decent hour, say 2 pm in the afternoon?  (I hear the plot daemon’s wicked chuckle over there behind the boiler…followed by a headshake and “Ye should be thankin’ me, lass, not complainin'”)

Be that as it may, an entire string of plotbombs landed on the book starting in late evening and continuing until now when I have (I hope) enough clues written down in a separate file to make use of them later.    For those who don’t want plotbombs disturbing their books-in-progress…do not let yourself wonder what else might be down at the bottom of that hole.  ANY hole.  Large, small, shallow (apparently), deep (actually)….thinking about what might fit into any hole is going to lead to Ideas.  Look where it led Tolkein, with that simple little hole in which lived a hobbit.

Other things not to wonder about:  what’s under that bridge.  What’s in that thicket.   Where did what was in that box go?  Where did  anything come from?  How long before/after something was something else coming/going/born/dying/missed?   Why would/wouldn’t this character do that?  What if the whoozit were a whatzit instead?

I’m warning you.    A momentarily idle mind will start wondering stuff, and asking questions, and every single one of those questions, if followed too far, will lead to complications in your book in progress.   You will have moments of stark terror when the answer to a question seems to invalidate everything you’ve written so far (like, say, two thirds of the book as planned) and moments of great joy when you figure out that no, this actually solves a problem you didn’t realize you had.  You will have giddy moments of feeling like someone who’s just been bucked out of  the saddle and hasn’t landed yet–completely out of control and yet flying–and rejoining the story is likely to be a considerable jolt.  Since I rather like plotbombs, I’m willing to put up with this, but if you’re the kind of writer who wants to feel in control all the time and know exactly what you’re doing next…do not let your mind ask  (or, if it must, go down the rabbit hole of seeking answers to) those questions.

(And lo–having written this I fell asleep without posting it last night.)