As winter lingers on, and another round of snowfall… well, falls, once more I venture to the Land of Exposition, and book a room (a luxury suite this time) at the Character Development Inn. Thankfully, the place is stocked with plenty of foodstuffs (and a coffee bar too!). Actual!writing has stalled a bit (again) as the narrative arc and the quasi-finalized order of stories has shifted, resulting in the need to rethink the exposition for the handful of quasi-established characters. Naturally, this (re)opens up the myriad of possible narrative paths and parallel/alternate universes for Series One, which (in theory) will trickle down into (the still vaguely sketched out) Series Two and Series Three.
Yes, I probably should stop all this pondering and plotting and just get right (back) to the actual!writing, however convoluted it might become: the introduction of a wholly new character (created in one of those rare spurts creativity that leads to actual!writing) I inserted in Series One, Book One has backed me into a corner as to why it that character
suddenly appears and to what purpose that character serves in the overall Grand Scheme of Things (not to mention having to create the exposition for that character and his relationship(s) with the main protagonists).
Also in (re)focusing on character development for the two main leads – the Detective and his Associate (and Narrator), their family history needs to be fleshed out to be able to know why the duo are the way they are, and how they act (or react) they way they do. Of course, in doing that, there arises the
urge need to tell their story, if only to explain things, which is now the case: at least one of the novels in Series One is a prequel tale. I’ve managed (thus far) to keep the ventures into the prequel era contained to the generation before the main characters in the series which, considering how I like to know (almost) everything about my characters before getting to the nitty-gritty details of the actual!narrative, is a remarkable achievement.
So as I wrap myself with another blanket, sip my (now) lukewarm coffee (sweetened with honey instead of sugar, which tastes AWESOME) and switch on my “Music for the Muses” iTunes playlist, I delve back into the recesses of my quasi-inane, strangely elaborate mind palace-that-looks-like-Downton Abbey and attempt to figure out who exactly my characters are.
Hopefully, I’ll figure it all out by the time all the snow outside melts. Or stops falling.