I don’t know when it happened, but sometime or another this month (or maybe it was this year) my brain ceased working. At least that’s how it feels. I thought I had a plot for my third Crows book, but evidently I don’t because I’m halfway through and I have no idea where to go next. It’s not even as if I wrote myself into a corner. It’s more like I’ve written myself over a cliff. I knew the beginning and how I wanted the story to end, and I thought the middle would work itself out. Well, surprise, it hasn’t.
My mystery lacks tension and suspense. There’s absolutely no reason for my protagonist to be involved in solving the crime. I just finished judging books for the Daphne contest and the criteria used to judge those books is fresh in my mind. Considering what I have written, if I were judging it today, I’d have to give it a low score.
In some ways I’d like to simply shelve the story and work on something else, but I ended the second book in the series with a situation that more or less requires a third book. (At least that’s what my fans tell me.) So if I walk away from this story, I’m letting them down. Heck, I’d be letting myself down.
Today I decided to start a chapter by chapter outline of what I have written. I’m hoping as I go through what I already have I’ll stimulate my creative thoughts and will come up with a new direction. If that doesn’t work, I’m hoping my critique partners (I’ve sure missed working with those ladies while I was in Florida) will help with some brain storming.
This being brain dead sure isn’t fun.