On Writing a Novel, Entry #7

I am exhausted.

I skipped writing last night for the sake of Steinbeck, so tonight I am getting back on track. 1000 words.

I realized something yesterday. My 10,300 words is a full 5.5 pages less than Amanda's 10,300 words. It is the unfortunate side-effect of a character/narrative-driven story, rather than a plot/dialogue-driven story. My pages are "thicker."

But, the more I can do to press myself forward, the more I will accomplish in the end. I find myself questioning if I can pull off this piece--and I think that is the right place to be. Were I confident in that ability, I would not be striving hard enough, and would not be using this writing as an expansion of myself, but rather a continuation of the status quo.

Tonight I am trying to delicately weave a conversation where Sammy is trusting Lydia more and more, and enjoying her int he present but not ready to let her into his past. He feels an impossible and wrong fear--a fear that causes him to shift the conversation to her, rather than on himself.

I think she will like this shift, and start to think more about him than an idle conversationalist/companion. So I have to show: his fear, his diversion, her surprise (and pleasure), and her story. Will she dive into her story? I am not sure. I think she, too, is willing to give the present but not the past. And I think that will be enough for tonight.