A couple of weeks ago, I decided to scrap my novel-in-progress. I've been working on it for a while and am halfway finished. However, with the move, I'd set it aside for a while.
And I lost my rhythm.
I lost the heart of the story.
I didn't care about it anymore.
This, my dears, is not good...for the novel. For me it worked out great.
I'm a Taurus. I'm stubborn. I listen to you, but it might take a while for it to sink in. My friend often expressed that she wished I'd work on a young adult novel again. (The other novel was a high concept humor for adults.) Her argument made sense because I've spent most of my life in high school. It also made sense because I already have one novel published in that genre. (Buy Glamour!) Her words finally sunk in.
The one thing I totally loved about the now defunct project was the characters. They were so much fun that I wanted to hang out with them. Well, now I am hanging out with them in every spare moment. They're just younger. I went back in time to when they were in high school. How cool is that?
Now, I have rhythm.
I have heart.
And this, my dears, is very good.