The Page that Would Not Die

Page 276. I hate it. I’ve been working on it for three days, and this one scene has been driving me insane.

But today, I got it right. I think I’m one of the writers who writes a scene in every possible WRONG way before I find the right way. It’s like a stubborn male who won’t ask for directions. Only I’m begging for a writer’s GPS system that will somehow point me in the right area.

The solution? Switch the internal conflict into a direct argument between the hero and heroine. Show, don’t tell. Duh. You’d think that after four books, I would know this.

But I’m feeling good about it now. The real challenge at this point of the book is having the hero be strong and an alpha male without being a complete jerk. It’s a fine line to walk, and it’s all about how much you reveal. Too much, and he’s a weepy wussy man who needs a skirt. Not enough and you want to smack him in the face.

My goal is to finish all of these revisions by Friday. If I don’t hit any major stumbling blocks, it could happen. Then I can go back to Patrick’s book and start obsessing over that. May deadline. Oh lordy. But we won’t think about that now. I’m just glad to be past page 276!

A Sunday chuckle–The priest was raising the Eucharist bread for the blessing in church the other day. My two-year-old daughter sees the divided circular bread and yells out, “Oooh, Mommy! I want that waffle!”