That Prince Guy

Don’t mind me, I’m just struggling with writer’s block.

I have a lot of friends who have offered or would otherwise probably be happy to talk this through with me, but I’m still struggling with the whole “figure everything out on my own” shebang. Right now I’m just going to work it out right here for all the world to see (once I hit ‘publish’).

I’m working on a really FUN book right now. It’s right up the Ella Enchanted alley. The first time I started writing it, it began with a prince getting drunk, kidnapping a princess from a neighboring kingdom, and getting in a sword fight with an enchanter (and losing, badly). It was a really fun first chapter. I really loved that chapter. But I never figured out what happened next.

I’m starting Chapter 1 a little differently this time. It’s a much more serious opening. As it turns out, I tend to make all of my stories very serious. Even when I don’t want to. Now I have to figure out how to balance the seriousness and humor in a book that’s supposed to be comedic, because I haven’t written anything like this ever. Other than the first chapter.

I’ve decided to write this book in first person POV alternating between the prince and his love interest. I’ve also decided that the prince is an unreliable narrator. He wants people to see him a certain way, so he remembers things and/or recounts things to people in a way that will influence their opinion of him for the better. This will be balanced out by the princess’s POV since she is very straightforward. This will also present some more comedic opportunities.

Logically I don’t see why I should be stuck right now. I’m still writing from the prince’s POV. It doesn’t have to be realistic when I tell his POV. He’s already twisting everything to his benefit and flat out lying about some things (mostly small things. And the first 500 words). Right now he’s just arrived at the tavern. This is where it should start getting fun.

Maybe I started it out too serious.

The MMC was a complete goof the first couple times I wrote this chapter. It’s hard to switch over and present him that way after the first scene. It was just so serious.

Maybe I need to start it off with him talking to someone and goofing off. Show that that side of him exists before I start narrating it with that outlook.

You know? Honestly? I think I’m just scared.

I think writing has become traumatic for me.

There is no reason I shouldn’t have been able to write something worth publishing by now. I’m a good writer. (I’m better when I’m writing fiction rather than narrating a blog post with a casual voice.) I have good ideas. I’ve done a lot of studying and practice. I know what I’m doing. And yet it hasn’t happened yet. I get to the end and I feel like everything is wrong. More often than not I feel like the problem is actually the timing in my life, but I always second guess myself and think something is wrong with the book itself. And how am I supposed to know if the timing is right before I finish it? What if it really has been something about my writing that’s the problem, all along? If it is, couldn’t I just go spend more time reading and researching and taking classes and fix that problem before I even start the book?

I value efficiency. It’s one of the most important aspects of how I live my life. When I’m not being efficient, I’m definitely being overridden with anxiety to compensate. Not that it’s a fair compensation.

I don’t know.

Maybe I’m just rambling in order to avoid writing.

I told my husband he needs to help me enforce writing time. I need to hear him tell me, “The next hour is for writing. You can’t do anything but write. Get that book written.” I really think that will help me. Definitely more so than telling myself all that stuff.

He just finished putting our son to bed. I think he’s waiting for me to finish typing on my phone in order to make me write now.

I guess… I guess I’ll get to it.

I’ll get this book done, somehow.

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