Right now, I'm trying not to feel ridiculous with posting things in the blog when I haven't really told anyone that I have a blog in the first place. I think it's because I'm giving myself a trial period of sorts - if I can somehow write posts consistently, it won't be as embarrassing to tell my loved ones I have one instead of the disappointing blog friends and family have come to know me for which is hardly ever updated.
So, here goes my trial post number 2.
Me and story have had a love hate relationship for the past two months. At certain points, I love it, others moments, I feel it loves me, and still sometimes, we just hate each other with a passion. Right now we've hit a wall at the theoretical last chapter forcing me to do the unthinkable - I started editing the previous sections. Running currently at 4K++ words, I, in theory, should have just rammed through the stupid barrier before editing as, in the past, going back and worrying about the little details always succeeded in making me less interested in the story than I am with its tenses. Unfortunately, I really don't know what to do after the wall, and short of hurling a particularly heavy object in the literal sense, all my metaphorical ramming and hammering have not been the least bit successful. Times like these I can't help but wish I was more like Dean, who could see the end and a vague sense of how to get there, or like Nikki, who could make the ending work either way, or like Andrew, who could take a sablay ending that could leave a sophisticated reader reeling with the layers of interpretation.
I remember a time when I didn't have problems like these. Recently however, I've had major issues on almost all the endings I have in the not so distant past - which just goes to show that either I was just deluded before or I have a limited amount of endings in me and I've used it all up. For obvious reasons, I don't like considering both options. But with me almost done with my first editorial pass of story with still, no clear ending in sight, it seems like both options could equally be true. And if they are, what then?
Here's to hoping I somehow don't end up writing some trashy, trite, vaguely poetic (but not really) bunch of paragraphs as a short cut.
The Ending I Wrote For Now - An Update
It is trashy, trite and not even vaguely poetic. Aargghh.