Have you ever read one of those “What kind of writer are you?” posts or tests and wanted to jump up and scream at the screen “STOP TRYING TO PUT ME IN A BOX!”
Nope… just me then?
Well I never said I was normal… or sane… or quiet.
See, that’s the thing. I’m not just a writer. I’m a person – a weird one for sure – but all the same, I am ME!
And ME does not fit in a box – not any of them.
I read about how character-driven writers focus solely on the character and struggle with building the world around their characters, or how plot-driven writers tend to struggle with making their characters real enough and I just want to scream.
I DO NOT FIT IN A BOX!
Now, I’m not saying I’m perfect and I’m not even saying I am the only person who feels this way. I can’t… simple CANNOT be the only person who feels this way… but most people just go with the flow.
Lucky me, I have a blog where I can share my opinion with all of you. So when I see something I don’t agree with, you get to know the reason why.
This is not the first time I have stated this opinion however. I blogged about a very similar issue a little over a year ago right HERE! And while my opinion has most certainly not changed, I have gotten a bit bolder in the time since and I have no qualms about popping on here and being bold as brass and telling anyone who feels the need to STOP TRYING TO PUT ME IN A BOX!
I don’t fit. I am not a plotter. I am not a pantser. I am not a character-driven or plot-driven or world-driven writer.
I AM A WRITER.
I write what I want and I follow inspiration wherever it may lead.
When I started writing the Andarii Chronicles, I knew ALL OF IT! I had the entire story in my head (I still do in fact)!
I know what Gwyn is wearing throughout the whole thing and I know the exact location of each tattoo and odd piece of jewelry.
I know the last words she said to her mother before the phone call disconnected. I know what the mountain road she was driving along looked like.
I know how frightening it was to realize that everything she knew was a lie when that first odd memory hit her with the impact of a freight train.
I know exactly what the strange alien world looks like where she is training for war.
I know exactly who her mysterious trainer REALLY is and why.
I can describe for you the emotions she goes through when she realizes just who she really is and how it affects her.
And I know how the story progresses into part two and three and four and five.
I already know how the series ends – though it’s not really an end… just an end to the series.
I know who the hero is… and I can guarantee you, it’s NOT who you think it is.
And, as much as I hate to deal with it, I know who has to die and when. I’d like to take that part back, remove it from my subconscious but it’s there with everything else and I can’t make it go away any more than I can let go of the tattoos or the fact that Gwyn was a 35 year old, widowed, mother of two before the aliens snatched her, changed her, and trained her for a war she thought she had nothing to do with.
So… fit THAT in a box.
© JCMorrows 2015