I’ve forced myself to dig back into an unfinished story. I didn’t stop writing it because I didn’t want to finish it. I stopped because life got crazy, and I needed a different distraction, which was my new novel that I also put aside for similar reasons.
Funny how that works.
At the time, I was editing my fourth book in the Broken World series, the end of the semester was upon me, I had the flu and food poisoning and something else, and my kitty died.
So yeah, this got pushed aside.
But now, I’ve reopened the file for an official review and push to finish it. It is my story for my upcoming anthology after all.
I sat down to the first twenty-four pages. And I cried…six times.
Then, I sat down to write, and I cried for nearly an hour as I wrote.
To clarify, this is the diary of my main protagonist’s mother, Tatiana. The one who dies to give birth to Ria. Her death is no spoiler, but as I experienced in writing her father’s story—also dead—their inevitable deaths didn’t hamper my emotions.
I might have gotten this response on video, too, up on my channel via a writing vlog. It’s pitiful, but I didn’t edit out the crying. It was, like, three-quarters of my experience.
Overall, in my review and continued creation, I hope it affects others even a quarter as much as it did me while I was writing it.
I feel crazy sometimes, having these kinds of experiences while I write. But what else am I to do when people inhabit my head?
Do you ever have this kind of response when you write? Let me know in the comments below.