Resolution?

The novel is progressing rather well, I think. I've stopped editing Chapter One to insert something I thought about at the sixty-five thousand word mark and started modifying Chapters Two through Six to carry those ideas forward, which reminded me of something I'd forgotten to expand upon later in the rough draft ... somewhere.

This back and forthing, rummaging through the messy parts of the draft like a frenzied squirrel looking for someplace to bury a nut, is wearing.  I hope that soon, very soon, there will be no more jumping about as the skeleton of the plot solidifies and I can begin to move steadily along to a resolution that still evades me, but sits tantalizingly close  just beyond reach, on my mental  horizon.

But first I need to figure out how to resolve a few of the four arcs, or was that five?

It's the lack of resolution that impedes my progress. In real life there is seldom resolution.  Things fade away, get forgotten, or ignite some new chain of events that will also fail to be resolved. Of course there are some things that do get resolved, such as (hopefully) paying next month's bills, gassing up the car, and foraging necessities in the nearest superduppermarket.  But other things in our lives stubbornly refuse to resolve - like an argument with your spouse that you think resolved but is only the basis for another round or two.

I like stories that wrap everything up in a neat package so you don't sit there afterward saying over and over "I wonder what happened to...." or "...afterwards."

This draft doesn't look to be one of those. I hate stories that demand a sequel, or another story in the same  universe.  Nope, write to the end and forget it. Unless, of course your vast public demands it, a contract beckons, or the editor forces your hand.  Yeah, I might change my mind for any or all of those.

But instead of finding resolution I sit here writing another blog post about the lack thereof.

Back to work.


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