Scrappy Do

I’m scrapping The Thirteenth Path.

It ain’t right, so I’m throwing it out.

I think the problem is one of voice. I have a certain voice when I write. It is contemporary, and slightly silly, sarcastic, light and generally fun even in the midst of sad stuff. I’ve never found a better mix than a funny moment in a deeply sad scene, ever. In short, I write in the voice I have Good to know I’m reaching that authenticity goal…

But it kind of sucks when the story you meant to tell really has a different voice than your own.

The original story was about a high priestess named Jocasta who was the leader of a place between worlds–a place where people on the path to enlightenment stop and rest. The end of the thirteenth path, as it were. She was tired and getting into the “crone” part of her life, bored with her role and wanting something else. Then a guy shows up, a guy who isn’t supposed to find her place but finds it on accident. You can probably extrapolate the rest.

As is, a fine story. Just not one I can tell, I think. The idea is sound, and I even wrote a fantasy story about Atlantis that went quite well (if short). Well shoot I wrote a whole fantasy novel (Waking Kiara). I can’t really tell you why this story isn’t coming together the way I want. But it isn’t, and I really think I’m not connected to it. I don’t feel the story in my bones–Jocasta has not once spoken to me the way the others do. I don’t identify with her struggle, while I can imagine it just fine.

I can’t even metawrite about it!! Ack! Fine, I give up. In the end, I’ve scrapped the stupid thing and decided to write a story in Kiara’s world instead. I never went into her mother’s background, and I thought it might be fun to do so since by the time you read Kiara she is such an all out biotch.

And speaking of Kiara. Sigh. I really have to get to work on that. I’m blocked on that one for a totally different reason–lack of confidence. Maybe I’ll write about that next week…