Chipping away at the current WIP. Down from what was 80K to 70K. At this point, word count does not matter. Nothing matters except telling the best story I can. I know the difference. This week I read a horrible uncompelling novel by a best-selling author and a fabulous story by another best-selling writer.
The first book will remain nameless. My complaints include the fact that the first quarter of the book was back story, every single page a summary instead of a scene! I was appalled. I had to keep reading simply to see if the whole book was like that. Eventually Author X slowed down enough to show instead of tell, but it was too late. I was not invested in the characters and skimmed quickly through the book to see if anything at all would hook me. Nope. Not One Thing.
The book I am loving is The Help, which is so well-plotted and conceived that I am having a really good time gobbling it up. Adoring and hating the characters. Wondering what will happen next. Admiring the prose and the fact that although it is written in dialect, she pulls it off gloriously.
The Help has the kind of essence I want my books to have. Not asking much of myself, lol. Just to write like a woman who has had a novel on the NY Times top 10 bestseller list forever. Thanks to my book group for choosing this one. I’ve read so many novels set in Civil Rights south, I doubt I would have picked it up if not for them.