Wednesday, July 9, 2014
Honey In My Tea
These are bees at work in Finland (I love Helsinki!) as photographed by Estormiz and allowed for use here from the wikicommons repository.
I like honey in my tea. I shouldn't have it but I love it. I have some especially fine fragrant local honey this year which may be the best I've ever had.
In tonight writing's session, I wrote a scene that also is like honey. There are those scenes we need and then there are those scenes we love. I'm a "payoff" type of fellow and I live for the big payoff scenes.
There is something about holding one of our books' crescendo points in our hand and writing to make it work. I find it so very satisfying. Sure, the big payoff scenes are easy. We're so driven by a desire for the culmination of the action as readers that any number of approaches might work.
Remember Ice Station Zebra when the torpedo tube is open to the sea and the sub is going down? We know what is at risk. We know the characters. There are a hundred ways to write a way out of the scene and we the readers are praying for just one. Any one will do. Just give us one.
Sure, there is artistry in crafting an elegant and germane payoff. My point is that here are many good approaches to the big scene and so, we have liberty and that to the writer is freeing. I get to cast aside the strictures of the intertwined plots in the outline and resolve something - maybe by introducing more trouble I didn't know the characters had.
The big scene is great: the first kiss. the drawing room revelation of the murderer. the evil mad scientist's lair collapsing (aka the James Bond ending). I love 'em all.
I hope you are loving what you're writing.
I'm not naive enough to say I love writing every scene and I know you don't either. The payoff does make some of the slog worth it, though.
I hope your evil invading space aliens get space ebola and die in glorious doom gasping and fall one tentacle short of activating the Harrowgate device. Bwaaaaaahahahah.
Have some tea. Honey - I'm sure. Milk?
Posted by jack welling