I may have broken a record yesterday. Or unbeknownst to me, time was standing still. Three hours; yes, three, and I wrote one scene. And not even a long scene. I didn't stop for a break; I wasn't distracted by shiny objects. Am I really this slow?
It felt like I was working. Even worse, the scene isn't particularly interesting. Maybe that's it. Maybe I was striving to make it interesting and thus I spent too much time rejiggering my words. My intent was good; I wanted to convey the main character's post-concert emotions; the fact that her endorphins were surging and that she at last understood how entertainers can become addicted to performing. Inner thoughts.
But, seeing as how every action needs to lead directly into the next, I described the atmosphere on the tour bus, late at night when the only people remaining on board were the four women traveling (including the actual star, of course) and the bus driver ~ the contrast between the rowdy start, when the star had everyone in her entourage cramming inside the bus and the silence that now prevailed, so much so that the MC could hear the hum of the bus's tires.
But more than that needed to happen, so eventually MC's (female) manager and the star's personal assistant joined MC on the velvet lounge and they talked a bit about not much of anything, while the star herself was up front chatting with the driver. MC thought a nice drink of something would bring her down from her adrenaline high and she asked the assistant if the star kept a stock of liquor on board. She did, but she kept it locked up tight, apparently broken out only for special occasions. The assistant shared that the star even checked the liquor bottles from time to time to ensure no one had broken in and sampled any.
As the three continued their gossip session, the star appeared and asked if anyone wanted a glass of wine. MC found her question a bit disorienting, as if it was a test, so she demurred, but the star insisted. It was a celebration, after all. She brought out a bottle and three glasses, which MC's manager noticed and pointed out and offered to retrieve a fourth glass. The assistant shook her head disapprovingly, while the star insisted that the cup of coffee in her hand was all the stimulant she needed. So I guess now we know what the star's secret is, the one spelled out in the journal she wouldn't let MC touch. I almost went with the cliche that the star's secret was a child no one knew about, but that trope has been done to death. At least this is a bit more subtle. It also plays to the underlying sadness that MC has noticed a few times.
Eventually everyone but MC toddled off to bed, but MC still felt a need to talk to someone, so she called up the only person who'd still be awake at that hour, her old friend, the Luck Hotel manager. This could have been an interesting, revealing conversation, but it sort of petered out. It began with MC just wanting to be lulled by tales of things happening back in Chance; a nice lighthearted trip down memory lane, but the "tales" weren't very interesting, because not much ever happens in Chance. I probably could have done better, though. She did ask about her bartender friend, the one who'd iced her out on the phone (for leaving town without telling him), but her friend insinuated that there was really someone else she wanted to ask about ~ the man who'd broken her heart. It turned out that wasn't the case. It wasn't that she'd forgotten him, but distance had turned her philosophical about their relationship. So she ruminated some more about why she fell in love with him in the first place, or thought she had.
All of the above is probably more words than I actually added to the manuscript. Writing this, it almost seems like things did actually happen, but those things are so tiny and hidden that they're easy to miss. Do other writers bury the lede like this? I doubt it, but then again, my last book apparently announced the villain with a flashing neon sign, so I don't want to make that mistake again.
It would be easy to brush this writing session aside with "quality over quantity", but I'm not convinced the quality is there, either. It could be there with some tweaking, probably. At my pace, that would eat up another three hours.
Well, patience is a virtue. A crappy virtue and one that leads to nothing ever getting done, but I'm trying my best to go with it.
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