Immigrant Trail – Nevada Desert
Sometimes I feel I’m writing across a desert – that vast stretch between the beginning and ending of a novel. The only way through is to take it one step at a time.
My Great-Grandmother had to do it literally. Immigrants on the California Trail would make one last water stop in their covered wagons before leaving the Humboldt Sink where the river fanned out and disappeared into the Nevada desert. Forty miles and several days of waterless, hot parched desert lay ahead and there was no choice but to roll through. Along the way animals died, prized possessions were jettisoned, despair set in. Rather like writing through the middle of a story, I’m finding.
It’s humbling to learn that a great story takes more than a great idea. Writers have to craft this passage well so the reader wants to stay with the story. But it’s also where authors can get stuck in boggy, soggy ground. Between the beginning and end, there are elements of plot and character development, back stories, turning points, cliff hangers, triumphs, setbacks, reversals, and ever-present conflict and tension. Add to this, layers of character arc, motivations, subplots, story theme, and . . . Whew! It’s why I immerse myself in writing classes, conferences, critique groups, and reading, reading, reading.
When will The Desk be finished? Well, I’d say I’m about two-thirds across the desert. Like Beulah the Ox who detected the faintest whiff of water and quickened her pace, I can feel the pieces coming together, but I’ve still many miles to go. And when I do finally tie it all together, I’ll still have a steep granite mountain range to traverse, called Revisions.
© All materials copyright Shirley DicKard, 2012 – 2013, except as otherwise noted.