I’ve been ignoring the need to answer questions about the novel. Like “how did the world get this way?”, “what happened?”, “why do the people live like that?”. Now I’m not going to put an orgy of backstory into the novel, but my little glimpses were shallow and weak because I hadn’t fully explored their possibilities. So, I’ve been stuck. Stuck with a rock. Sitting down every weekend to write and just pushing the same rock up a foot higher and having it roll back by Sunday night.
Eureka! I just needed to write about “how the world got this way”. Not for someone to read, but for me to understand. I was reticent to do this work because it feels like a waste of time and I want to get this damn book finished. *sigh* But, I think it might be essential. It got me around the rock and headed up the mountain this weekend. And that’s something.