I hit a wall on my upcoming novel, The Breaking Strain, on the first draft. Yes, I'm still on the first draft and have been writing this since...February? I think? I can't remember. And to make matters worse, I'm only on chapter 13.
I'm currently at the point where I want to scrap this novel and just start all over. But that is a no-no in the writing world. No. You must finish the damn draft. It is utmost important you finish something because quitting is just as hard, if not more difficult than sticking with something.
Our FMC, Sarah Lake, recently stopped our MMC, Sam Pickney, from relapsing into alcohol. They shared their first kiss, but Sam put the brakes on from going any further. They are trying to be accountability buddies, as they first intended, but there is romantic tension. I am thinking about having Sarah's ex-boyfriend, Danny, appear in Chapter 13. To create more tension. And maybe Sam is driven into the arms of fellow alcoholic, but twenty-something Natalie after she has a fight with her boyfriend. This, of course, leads Sam and Sarah to rethink the accountability buddy situation and re-evaluate their feelings for each other. Meanwhile, Sarah attends therapy and her therapist, Shannon, lectures her about constantly saving Sam and using Sam as a distraction from her own recovery from depression.
Oh, and I don't remember if anyone remembers me entering this novel into the Novel Beginnings contest from ProWritingAid, but I wasn't even long-listed. Maybe next year I'll submit the second draft. If I finish it by then. Who knows? I know what I did wrong. Too much backstory at the beginning. And not enough showing.
I also struggle with my attention span and trying to write for long periods of time. I like to set aside certain times of the day to write. And either I write. Or I play The Sims or Paralives. And I will sit down with a Coke Zero or fountain Coke Zero from McDonald's and put on some music (currently listening to Taylor Swift and company as I write this blog post).
One thing I am worried about is not having Beta readers when the time comes to read. I have an extremely reticent community. I'm not even sure how to get community engagement on my socials or blog. I've got a Substack account set up, but my Substack is currently being set up. I'm hoping for more engagement through Substack. Although, I intend to use Substack as a newsletter service, rather than another blog to post to.
As for writing poetry, I wrote a poem just last night (June 3rd), based on Taylor Swift's song, "22". Any guesses what the poem is called? :-D
I am currently aiming for 45,000 words with The Breaking Strain. I am at 15,766 words. It would be so much easier to just write a novella. But I feel like there's too much character development that goes into it for it to be a novella and not enough romantic action that pulls someone in for a novella/quick read.
Also, I need to really develop Sarah into a journalist. Right now, she sounds like me. I guess in a way, I did base Sarah off of me. But she needs to be different. And I need to get her sounding more like a high-paid journalist for a cable news channel. That's another beef I'm having with this novel and it makes me want to scrap the whole darn thing.
I mean, this whole story is based on me running into my high school crush on the psych ward in 2024. While nothing romantic happened in real life with this crush, we're still good friends. We've got each other's back. I even told him about this book and he was flattered! He understood it was fiction and didn't mind me basing Sam Pickney off him. I let him read the monologue I shared a couple months ago. He didn't say anything however. I really should message him and ask him if he read it. I would appreciate his thoughts and opinions since he's a recovering alcoholic. Because recovery from bipolar disorder and schizoaffective disorder is completely different from recovery from alcoholism. He is also bipolar.
I do feel that this story is mine to be told. And it deserves to be out there in the world. I also feel it is unique compared to other romance novels and fiction books about psych wards and mental illness and addiction. I haven't been able to find books that had the second chance and recovery theme. They were completely separate. If you know of any books that have second chance AND recovery, let me know! Because I'm not having luck on my internet searches.
Since you read all my mumbo jumble, I'd like to share with you a little bit from Chapter 12. Reminder: This is the first draft. It is not completed or polished. This is just a sneak peak at where I'm at. It has A LOT of polishing and editing to go.
My cell phone rang. It was Sam. At 8:35 in the morning. I was in the middle of job hunting.
"Hi. What's up?" I answered the phone.
"I was just thinking about that kiss yesterday. It probably shouldn't have happened," Sam on the other end sounding confused.
"What do you mean it probably shouldn't have happened? I'm glad it happened!" I smiled, but I wondered why Sam was changing his mind already.
"I'm glad it happened too, but I'm scared, Sarah. I haven't felt these feelings since Jenna…"
I could hear the confusion and fear in Sam's voice. And I thought I was going to get my heart broken again.
"I don't think we should do this Sarah. I'm scared if Craig, my sponsor, finds out. I'm not prepared for more lectures and hearing about how I am breaking a rule. I don't like to break rules,"
"Oh Sam, but what we are experiencing is natural. We can't help who we fall for (if you are admitting you are falling for me, I am flattered!) And we certainly cannot help when we fall. I'm just as scared what my parents will say about us and what Shannon will tell me next time I see her."
"I know, Sarah. But there's something else I need to tell you…" Sam's voice shook.
"What?" I felt my stomach drop.
"I'm not over Jenna. I'm not ready to date anyone seriously yet."
"Oh Sam, I get that. I am not ready to move on from Danny just yet, either," a comforting lie.
"Is it cool that we just stick to being just accountability buddies?"
"Yeah, I guess. I mean, that's what we were supposed to be in the first place."
"Okay."
"Okay."
I hung up. Tears started rolling down my face. I flipped over on my stomach and cried into my silk pink pillowcase. I wasn't prepared for this speech. I couldn't get that damn kiss out of my head and the events of yesterday playing in my head. The kite flying. The way his rough hands felt on my smooth hands. I was too bummed out to look for a job now. Instead, I laid in bed. Moped. Suddenly, there was a knock on my door.
"Sarah, are you coming down for breakfast?"
I sobbed into my pillow. "No, mom."
"What's wrong baby?" mom grilled me.
"I don't want to talk about it mother. Leave me alone."
"No, Sarah. We need to talk. I am your mother. I do not want a repeat of what happened last month and you back in the hospital. Please, tell me what's wrong," she insisted.
"MOM! I don't want to talk about it!" I screamed at her and threw my favorite throw pillow at the door.
"Sarah Marie! I am your mother! You do not speak to me like that! I demand to know what's wrong!" she shouted back at me.
How could I tell her about what happened at the park yesterday with Sam? And how it was all torn away from me just now? And that Sam just wanted to be accountability buddies because he cares more about rules than going after what he desires? It was me he desired! I know he made up the excuse about not being completely over Jenna to sooth me.
I bit my tongue and swallowed my pride. "Sam and I kissed yesterday at the park. And he doesn't want to continue on with a romance. He said it was a mistake," I cried into my mom's arms.
"Sarah, honey, I think it's for the best you don't get involved with anyone else either. You just got out of a relationship yourself. You need time to heal. To date around. And most importantly, find yourself without being someone else's significant other." Mom hugged me, stroking my back softly.
"But mom, I don't want anyone else. The way Sam kissed me. It felt like he chose me. It felt like he desired me. Danny never made me feel desirable. In fact, that is why he cheated on me." I looked into my mother's eyes.
"Sarah, desirability does not make a relationship work all the time. There will come a time where you need a friend. And there will come a time where you just need someone who can support you financially. You are a woman, and a woman's job is to please the husband. Not working as a journalist or with a career," she condescendingly acknowledged.
"But mom, it is so important for a woman to have her own money, her own career, her own life outside of her husband. Don't you wish you could have been a career woman?" I was not buying mother's anti-feminist views.
"No honey. I am happy being a homemaker. I'm grateful for your dad to support me. He would never harm me or you. We have it made. And you have the opportunity to have this same life, especially now since you were in the hospital. You need someone who is sober and can take care of themselves and you. You don't need an alcoholic who can go on a bender the moment something goes wrong."
"But mom! Sam is changing! He's three weeks sober! I know he will keep this up if he has my love and my support!"
"Honey, Sam is not going to magically change just because he has your love and support. He has to fight his own issues. And alcoholism is not an easy addiction to recover from. Trust me Sarah, you are better off looking for a man who can take care of you financially."
And there it was. The voice of reason. I know that Sam won't magically become sober because I would be in his life as a partner, an equal. But I wanted to take care of Sam and let Sam take care of me. I'm sure Sam would have taken better care of me than Danny ever did. I thought Sam and I could take care of each other. Live in a Victorian house on 20 acres of land surrounded by wildflowers and deer. That was the fantasy. But the reality is this: I'm stuck living with my parents while Sam is stuck living with his mother across town.
Mom left the room and ordered me to come and eat something. I reluctantly came down in my
navy blue striped pajamas and Bugs Bunny slippers. Suddenly, my phone vibrated. It was a text message from Sam.
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