I’ve been working on Doorways for about three years, possibly three and a half.
When Darrion walked into my head and demanded that I write the story, a love for the story sparked and it was almost all I could think about. Lucky for me I think of multiple things at once otherwise I would never have been able to cope with University.
I wrote with more than a few doldrums where I ended up not writing until they passed. But when I got back to writing, it was wonderful. An incredible rush that hummed in my blood every time I put down the pen. I’d write whenever I could. While the rest of the people were watching rugby between eating (think NFL), I was watching rugby between writing.
I never realized how much I’ll miss drafting until the first draft was done. For me, the first draft (whether it sucks or not) is the phase where we get to experience creation. We still have to explore everything and everyone. Nothing is hard and fast. Everything is new. With the first draft, I got to experience the liberation of writing whatever I wanted. I loved getting to know the characters.
In December last year, the end of the story crept up on me. Really. Anyway. I rested the story until January and set the goal finishing date as 30 April. Almost immediately, I sensed a problem.
See, after my frenzied first draft, I had to bring in a sense of the technical. I had to start thinking of things like pacing and voice. Of right and wrong. Of story elements. Themes. Subplots. Of fixing plot holes.
Seems natural, right? Well, it is. But when it comes to my beast of an epic, things like that become daunting. There’s just so much! Fear crept in, choking out my spark of passion. Hopelessness followed soon after. I started to think that I’d been a little too ambitious in my choice of story to write.
And with that, I started to wonder if I should even be writing at all.
I tried to keep writing, but although I managed to keep going, my love for the story kept fizzling. In February I stopped writing altogether.
I kept it quiet, not wanting to admit that my beast beat me. So I gave myself pep talks. Lots of them. I even posted some on my blog.
It got me writing with renewed determination, but not love. My story became the enemy. I was writing to show the Beast who’s boss.
But one day, I was skyping a friend and something she said got me thinking. That thought turned into another thought and another and another until I had the main plot line that will run through the entire series.
Just like that, I remembered why I love the story. Not a moment too soon, either.
Because by that point, I’d been considering shelving Doorways indefinitely.
But in that moment, when I saw where the series would go, I realized that instead of all those things scaring me, they’re helping me. Those considerations were what made my story as good as it could become. And it had better be good. There are three sequels in the pipeline.
I wrote with new passion, sometimes I wrote six times my daily target until I finished it.
Of all the things that I am most grateful for, I am so glad that I didn’t give up on Doorways as soon as I could have.
So… Have you ever lost the passion for what you were working on? How did you get it back?