Resurrecting a Novel

I was in my forties when I decided to try my hand at writing prose. I’d written poetry in high school and college. It was typical teenage stuff and nothing special. My short stories were *meh* and I didn’t know why.

But could I write something with substance? Something longer than a few hundred words?

As I sat in my chair at home, I scanned the room for inspiration. My eyes landed on an antique quilt, handed down from who-knows-whom but it was at least over one hundred years old. And I wondered–could a quilt handed down from one generation to the next be the basis of a story? I decided to try, ended up with about 26,000 words, and called it “done.”

Several years later I showed it to my partner, Charlie. He thought it was good and encouraged me to write more. Instead of expanding on that story, I started a new one. It was better–but still not great.

Fast forward several years. I took writing classes, studied the art of story and character arcs, and plots. I had a list of potential topics, but only one felt satisfying and I knew I was not yet good enough to write it. In 2016, I decided to try anyway, and War Sonnets, a World War II novel based on my uncle’s service in the Pacific, was born. Nostalgia, a Civil War novel based on two ancestors’ service, followed in 2025.

What could I do next? I still had my list, but nothing got me excited, except… the quilt story. I started a rewrite. Everything was moving right along. Until I guilted myself into “plotting”; creating scenes and sequels, devising character arcs, following the prescribed formats.

It has nearly undone me. Every time I pick up the project, I get lost in planning quicksand. It overwhelms me, and the passion for the story gets lost.

It’s a shortcoming of mine: I overthink–EVERYTHING! Until I get so frustrated I just chuck it all and write from my head and my heart and to hell with the inner critics. It happened with War Sonnets, with Nostalgia, and now it’s happening again.

The printed stack of plotting documents is close to an inch thick now. Too much to weed through. My perfectionism tries to rewrite, reanalyze the plotting.

It’s going to take all the self-control and patience I have, but doggone it, I’m going to ignore the “how-tos.” Plotting be damned! I’ll keep you up to date here.