The cock­tail shaker

Word­ccount = 88,753

Halfway through the week, I’ve added a few thou­sand words and laid down the bed­rock for about half of the climax.

These intense typ­ing ses­sions are very unusual: I nor­mally sit down to the blank cursor feel­ing as though I’m lean­ing out over a cliff and the wind is turn­ing. I know what plot is required, but how am I sup­posed to make it excit­ing and inter­est­ing? What will people say?

A small, des­per­ate idea comes. What if, while try­ing to say some­thing, a char­ac­ter is inter­rup­ted? By whom, and why? Maybe the other per­son has some­thing to say, and they’re both try­ing to say it at once? How would you do that — what would the dia­logue look like, how much would each per­son get out in each broken sen­tence, and how much stage dir­ec­tion should be inter­spersed to keep a sense of where, when and how?

More import­antly, how can I some­how crow­bar this hoary old device into my plot just to get me going?

Let’s not call it an idea. Let’s call it an excuse.

So the typ­ing begins, and the com­pet­ing dia­logue idea gets used, and now the cursor is flow­ing along nicely. There’s a way to get into the plot proper, and here it comes, and sud­denly it’s three thirty and five new pages exist. Maybe that dia­logue trick will stay in and maybe it won’t, but that’s a ques­tion for later. The ques­tion for now is: now that I’ve stopped to check the time and count pages, how do I deal with this blink­ing cursor?

What if…

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