I want to thank all of you with your thoughts in my last post—about whether or not it’s important to label yourself as a writer. It was pretty split—everyone definitely having their own opinion on the matter. But it *did* help. I now know with clarity the angle I want to take with my WIP.
Though I don’t want to go *too* fantastical, I’ve decided my WIP will be a modern day twist on the Phantom of the Opera—but Ballet style. So I can take the realistic edge I’m drawn to, but still have the ghostly element my soul craves while writing. I’m stoked!
I’m also dabbling my hand at present tense, which is actually quite refreshing. So all in all, I think the majority of your opinions are spot on. It’s important to create what your inner self is screaming at you to write, but to try and switch it up—make a challenge for yourself whether it’s changing tenses, POV, how you approach the story, or even genre.
Because I’m so excited, I wanted to share my first draft page with you of my WIP:
I lift my leg higher, wincing at the burn in my lower back. Shoulders down. Stomach pulled in. Head tilted. I bring my leg around, focusing on my standing hip, until my working leg is in front of me, inches from my face. With an excruciating push that I am all too familiar with, I stretch my limb higher until I descend it to the ground.
The music tinkles to a stop and I lower my arms, finished. My heart hammers in my ears and sweat clings to the inside of my leotard. An itch tickles in the middle of my back, but I hold frozen, waiting for permission to move. The judges scribble behind their clipboards, the sound grating along my bones.
I slide my eyes over to Beth. She nailed it. Just like me. Her eyes stay fixed in front of her, but the corner of her mouth twitches so I know she’s aware of me. Dozens of other girls stand alongside us, not including the hundreds that have auditioned across the country.
“That will be all,” the judge in front says. He has dark, thick-framed glasses that look more like an accessory than for actual use. Kind of like the pencil behind his ear.
The room seems to breathe at once as we quietly head over to the sides of the studio where our bags are located. Pointe shoes click on the Marley floor and the air is hot and sticky on my skin. None of the judges watch us depart, like we’re not human beings who would cut off a limb to be part of their program. If we didn’t need the limb to dance in the first place.
We are only clinical objects to them. How long are our legs? How defined is your arch? Can you add an extra turn to your pirouette? Or most important: How much do you weigh?
A few posts back I talked about how I didn’t feel the “magic” with my previous WIP. Which is interesting. I love the story, but didn’t feel the huge excitement like I did with my first novel. The magic is back. I know this current story is one I’m supposed to write and I can’t wait to get to it.
What are you working on now? Is it different from what you normally write? Do you have that spark of excitement as you have with past projects?
Red. Head. Out. :D