I’m home from work today with a sick little Thumper bunny and taking advantage of the unexpected time off to catch up on a bit of writing. I’m working on revisions for another novel, and it’s not going as well as I’d initially thought it would. There’s so much more to cut than I’d first thought: trying to keep it to one POV per scene is a major challenge.

I’ve been fiddling around with these books for a good decade. I even queried them a few years ago, but didn’t get anywhere. That, of course, happened long before I decided that one book should become two, but even then it was a hot mess. It’s still a hot mess, but at least I think I’ve grown as a writer since then. I still feel like the head-hopping isn’t such a big deal, but others (okay, pretty much everyone else) disagree, so I’m changing it.

And it’s hard. So very, very hard.

Silencing my diligent and devoted inner literary critic is even harder.

I think the changes I’m making will improve the story, though, or I wouldn’t be making them. But I also feel like I’m losing a lot as a result, lots of good writing and lots of information. Maybe some of the lost info isn’t necessary to the story – I have a tendency to harp on things in my fiction (another thing I need to work on) – but what if it is? Some of what I’ve cut didn’t move the story along, and even I can see that now that this story has been sitting for so long.

But some of it I just hate to lose, this scene in particular:

Anna’s head dropped forward as blissful unconsciousness swept over her. Another man entered the room just in time to save her from another blow. “You’ll harm her no more, Malsato,” he declared. He instructed two of his men to cut her bonds and put her in his carriage. “I will deal with my wife as I see fit. I am still king, and I’ll not have you taking prisoners and beating them senseless.”

It had been a long time since Vatren had felt anything so acutely. “Namora is my wife, which makes her my problem, not yours. Surely a man as well-versed in the Tokhnat as you cannot dispute that.” His voice oozed sarcasm. “My word is still law. Don’t trifle with me.”

Malsato was silent as Vatren left, but his eyes spoke volumes. They were filled with pure, unadulterated hatred. Nothing disgusted him as much as the sight of his brother-in-law and yet, if it hadn’t been for Vatren, he would never have become High Priest of Lokana in the first place.

Though a powerful position in its own right, it was no longer enough for Malsato. He longed to be king instead of third in command. He had been the king’s second since his sister’s disappearance, but he had long ago grown weary of kowtowing to someone he so despised.

Now obviously there’s a lot there that really doesn’t work. But I think there’s also a lot there that highlights the complexity of the relationship between these two men. Unfortunately, my POV character is unconscious and, even if she weren’t, she can’t read minds and she can’t yet understand a thing they’re saying, so there’s no way she could possibly know any of that.

It’s like I said on Twitter yesterday afternoon:

Still, it feels great to be getting back into writing. I’m hopeful that 2017 will turn out to be the amazing year of awesome that I had planned for 2016 to be.

What about you? Are you making any progress on your goals for the year?

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