I’ve been working on a light-hearted young adult fantasy set in a medieval secular world. I’ve chosen to keep magic at bay, but I hint at mental relationships between a young man and his dog, Felmer, that might be magical. There are strange creatures, crowen, donkmarrs, and bruincats plus less odd sheeple and katle–it’s a fantasy. I’ve been plugging away at writing the short story for several weeks now.
I started with the goal of five thousand words. That goal died a quick death–you need not worry–it didn’t suffer long. In the meantime, the story has evolved to be less about a young man reaching manhood and a young woman finding the importance of integrity in her beau and more about the value of a trusted friend. A friend that cares nothing for accolades, but wants to be treated with respect and fed regularly.
For a few days, I’ve been stumped on the next chapter (14). My rough goal is one thousand to twelve hundred words per chapter. My team of seekers has reached an interim stop point at Road’s End, and I started the chapter with the idea of describing the scene and explaining what crowens are. A few hundred words in my mind. How do I complete the chapter I asked myself over and over again. Then Felmer demands attention and a few hours later I’m 780 words into the chapter and haven’t dealt with the crowen or set up the next challenge.
I love writing, but I don’t understand it at all.
(c) 2016 by David P. Cantrell