Okay, So I Really Need To Work More On The Chapter I'm Supposed To Be Getting Out, But The Inspiration

Okay, So I really need to work more on the chapter i'm supposed to be getting out, but the inspiration to work and flush out more of the love confession chapter has really been kicking my butt. So here's some more of it flushed out:

"You would have left behind everything you knew. Your home, your friends, your family, for us." She hadn’t asked the question, but it hung unmistakably heavy in the air. Sage eyes, deep with wonder, with tears, begging to pool at the edges. 

Why choose that over a normal life?

He didn’t know if he could ever express how much she truly meant to him, how much she had irrevocably changed his life. Not only had he found a best friend and someone he cared deeply for, but through her, he also gained a family in the others.

And then, in an instant, it was all gone when Gretta and the rest of her family went through the scrying pool. The world forgot about them ever being there and continued around him. He was surrounded by other classmates and friends, but making his way through school and places around Woodside, all he found was a loneliness he never knew existed.

When he thought of the house they were in now being completely empty, he realized what that void in his chest he’d felt in Woodside High’s maintenance room really was. Because of them, his heart experienced so much and had become so full. And when they were gone, a part of that heart had broken away and disappeared with them.

There were no more magic spells, adventures, or even guy club meetings. There were no more opportunities for his romantic hopes with Gretta, to share a first real kiss, or to tell her the three words he wanted to until it was already too late. 

After feeling that loss, that heartbreak, that ache — he never wanted to go through that again. Not when she was brought back to him by some miracle, by fate, or both. They say distance makes the heart grow fonder, but how could anyone possibly understand what a distance of a thousand years could do?

"The only reason I needed was you.” He moved Gretta’s hand where he could put his hand in hers. “I didn’t care that it would’ve been before the champion spell. You already had me til’ the end.” His fingers glided between hers to interlock their fingers, caressing her hand with his thumb. “I knew what I was signing up for, whether that meant breaking the champion spell again, making up a crazy plan to stop some enemy of yours, or deciding what memories I kept. Whatever happened, I would’ve chosen you.” He gave out a heavy breath before his eyes met hers again. “I'm always going to choose you, Gretta." Leaning forward, he closed his eyes, pressing his forehead gently against hers. His heart quickened at the next three words to escape. "I love you." It was spoken closer to a whisper but the three words echoed in his chest, like Dwight had shouted them from a mountain top with his arms outstretched.

Time seemed to stand still, and so did Dwight. All it took was for his heart to momentarily take control and the words went out of him into the ether like someone had given him a truthberry. He felt her fingers pull while tangled with his, causing nothing but panic to start sinking in. Suddenly, her hand sat warmly against his cheek. The sensation was electric, grounding him in the moment moving in slow motion. Their breaths intermingled and their noses tenderly brushed against each other before their lips met, soft and tentative. A slow drag of kisses, savoring every tick of the large grandfather clock in the entranceway, unhurried and unapologetic. Small caresses with Gretta’s hand made their way down his neck and shoulder, finding harbor against his chest. He held her hand there, hoping she understood just how much his heart beat for her. She didn’t need to say it back, not this time. It was enough to ease the heavy weight in his chest every time he stopped himself thinking it was too soon, too fast. When they parted, Dwight opened his eyes and found a gentle warmth in the sparkling depths of hers. Her cheeks held a delicate blush, and a smile played upon her lips.

"Would you… like to see my chamber?" 

Dwight’s eyes widened and blinked, taken aback at the invitation. He quickly recovered with a quirked-up smile and nodded. “Sure, lead the way.” Her smile widened and instantly she was up on her feet, taking his hand to pull him up the stairs. 

“Gretta, are you sure this is okay?” Dwight asked looking around the upstairs hallway as they stood in front of the Princess’s closed bedroom door. 

“With all the times I have been in yours, I know I can trust you enough to allow you in mine, Sir Dwight.”

“I know. What I mean is, this isn’t breaking any rules, right? I don’t want Baldric and Hexala coming in and turning me into some vegetable.”

“If it’s any consolation, I believe you would look rather charming as a parsnip.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” he asked bemused, as her door was opened and he was pulled into her room by the collar of his shirt.

I wrote for the first time in ages today. A brief prologue for an original work. I have some actual character summaries I’ve written for this novel idea in the past couple weeks too.

I am determined to keep the momentum going. A little bit everyday. Just get words on the page and write this thing. Write a terrible horrible first draft.

I never seem to do the horrible first draft thing - I’m always editing everything as I go, thinking way too much about every sentence. This time - few thoughts, just write! Fix later!

Well hopefully anyway.

Wish me luck!

Don't be afraid to jump ahead in your story.

I was struggling with this scene, a rather gruesome, exhausting scene. I get to a point where the scene's point is made and then what's left for me to do is to write the set up for a narrative shift in the scene. This set up is what's known in filmmaking as "shoe leather": the mundane actions (sitting down, saying "goodbye" on the phone, walking inside a room) that don't provide much to the story besides them being things that the characters do to get them to the juicy stuff.

I was not looking forward to chewing on that shoe leather until I got an idea:

why not just cut that boring stuff out and jump ahead to the things people actually want to see?

And so, that scene was divided into two, and a little time jump where the shoe leather would have happened was placed in between scenes.

As everything, this tool is a case-by-case thing, but just knowing it's there can help remind ourselves of a couple of very important things that are often forgotten when we're so cycled on our writing:

Not every single thing needs to be spelled out, the audience can infer a lot of things with enough clues.

Giving screentime to a thing is giving importance to that thing; is describing the way they open a door relevant? Only you can know.

You're here to write what you want to write. Some parts (action scenes, my god) will always be a bit more of a slog, but the important thing is that they lead to your enjoyment of the whole work in the writing process, which quite likely will lead to the audience's enjoyment in the viewing.

Oh my gawd if that isn't a feel... can't tell you how many times that's happened to me.

What I hate about writing is when I have to write so much before I finally get to the part I actually wanted to write.

who cares if i want to mentally live in my daydream universe while i physically rot away. that's my business

The Outbursts of Everett True was a comic strip that ran in papers from 1905 to 1927, wherein the aforementioned Everett True regularly beat the everliving shit out of rude people as a warning to anyone else who might consider being rude. Men have not only been taking up too much room on public transport for about as long as public transport has existed, but the people around them have been irritated about it for at least a hundred years. The next time someone tries to claim that manspreading is a false phenomenon, please direct them to this strip so that Everett True can correct their misconceptions with an umbrella upside the head.