This week was both the start and finish of a writing workshop I attended online: The Character Arc. Basically, it was about focusing on the external events that push the storyline forward and the internal reaction each plot point causes. It was amazing! I outlined my entire work in progress, a feat which I have never before accomplished.
I’m literally in shock. For once, I have the bones of the piece all planned out. What’s been festering in my mind is now staring back at me from my notebook (because my laptop is broken. Now everything takes twice as long)!
So, it’s only appropriate The Fam and I did some historical outings this weekend that made me want to work on my other WIP. Because that’s how I roll.
While we were driving around Small Town America, seeing the history there was to see, we passed an ice cream parlor surrounded by-I kid you not-at least fifteen twelve year olds. They were causing a ruckus. Well, all accept for the kid with a cardigan draped over his shoulders. He was keeping a respectable distance and staying marginally unattached to either of the two swarming groups. I liked that kid. Someday that kid is going to be worth millions.
But I turned to The Hubs and said, “Where are the parents?”
He shrugged and said, “They’re out having fun.”
No, hooligans is what they are. They’re running in the road.
I remember being a teenager and my friends saying, “Wow, we’ll never be as strict as our parents.” And trust me, my parents were strict. I’m the goodiest goody two shoes around. But I think as a parent I might surpass even them! I mean, come on, the things I got away with! Kissing boys in the church kitchen! Climbing up the bell tower ladder and up on the church roof! To this day, there’s a lock on that door because of me and my friends!
Seriously though, I never thought I’d become my parents. I also thought I’d never be as old as my parents, but I digress. It is insanely hard to be a parent. I watched those kids screwing around by all that traffic, cell phones in hand, dashing around the parking lot. And I honestly hope my kids are like the cardigan kid. Out having fun, friends with everyone, and sweater in hand. I’m okay with that.
Oh well, enough worrying for now. Off to work on my non-outlined story. I’m such a rebel!
For more information on workshops like the one I took, you can visit http://www.rwa.org