guerrilla journals

where is the groove and where do I find it?

I repeat: We have a premise. This is not a drill, friends. There is a real, live premise on our hands. Is it a great premise? I don't know, that's subjective and I'm not worried about that. I've got positive reviews from a few people so that's great. It is as follows:

In a treacherous place where magical beings have been chased underground, can Fox, a dreamy apothecary clerk with a dangerous secret, topple an unjust legacy with hunters on her heels and her family hanging in the balance before an infamous demoness breaks free and raises Hell?

Writing the premise and having a very specific guideline of what to include (and not include) actually helped me visualize where it starts and where it goes, what's at stake. Premises, according to The Novel Writing Roadmap, consists of:

  • Character (name, occupation or descriptor)
  • Setting (time period, location, situation)
  • Goal (what do they want?!)
  • Opponent (why is it so hard to get?!)
  • Disaster (what happens if they don't get it?! or better, if they do?!)

I had an inkling of a story and characters and now I know who my champion is. I know her goals, what pisses her off, and what inspires her (at least in this story, anyway). I know what kicks off the action and I know why she does it. I mean, who wouldn't want to read about a kid named Fox avenging a mysterious woman before hell breaks loose?

Now I have an outline that I'm working on, fleshing out bit by bit. I think this is working. Shhh.

And to make things even better, I have a new typewriter keyboard to boot!

I am an anxious being. Sort of. I have an excellent cover, I think. People don't notice. I smile big-eyed and laugh sometimes. I ask how your weekend was, show you a thing I saw that reminded me of you. I brush my teeth and take my medicine. But when you look away, when I'm alone, the veneer cracks. I can't breathe. I've sweat (sweated? swoot? swat?) through two+ layers of clothing. My chest hurts.

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I came across a challenge, an outline, a task about writing and finishing and editing a story in less than 365 days. It provides a very structured timeline over a span of 52 weeks where you push and push and push yourself to weave together words until something beautiful appears. Like a baby.

It goes as follows:

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It has been a long week. So long that I've had three or four ideas of blog posts that came and went, so tired from a work day that spilled into the evening and music practices that sent me in other directions and why can't I stop yawning?

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This week has been a bad week for the flutist in me.

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This morning, I deleted over 400 emails from two inboxes (one for all things Guerrilla Rain though mostly notifications of new follower requests, and the other for miscellaneous online orders and my New Yorker subscription).

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