by Shelt Garner
After about three years of struggle, I have finally figured out not only what the story I want to tell is, but how to tell it. I’m extremely embarrassed by how long it’s taken me.
If I wasn’t totally alone, a wife or girlfriend probably would have pointed out how I’m solving a long-term problem with this story about two years ago. Or, she would have maybe told me what was obvious to everyone but me — the story was just too big. While she might have said it was “too ambitious” which would have made me angry, what would have been true was I had a lot of great set pieces, but too much time covered.
Anyway. Problem fixed now.
I still have a huge amount of reading to do. But the “snap!” I heard in my mind when I figured out how to tell this story was so loud, I’m still adjusting to how pleased I am. It’s like I realize that I finally, at last, have the credits to graduate from grad school.
A lot — A LOT — could still go wrong. But the specific reason for this creative journey is now within sight. I am going to finish a novel.