No new word count on Crowmaker yesterday or today. That's OK, I think, because I've been putting in a lot of time thinking and analyzing and re-thinking and re-analyzing. And I've been throwing what I have against some planning techniques I've been reading about and getting interesting results. So I've removed the daily word count goals from my calendar entirely, after having a new-old revelation today.
I don't just want this story done. I want it done right. When you read it, I want you to see the panoramic view that I see when I close my eyes and envision it. I want it to get inside your head the way it's in mine. I want you to feel this story the way I feel it.
The problem with gorgeous panoramic views, of course, is that they're comprised of zillions of little details, each of which works together to create the breathtaking whole. I can see those details--almost. They're writhing around in my head, pushing and shoving and trying to break down boundaries I may have inadvertently put around them so they can be born.
Some days, writing just hurts. But it's not a bad pain. Mostly.