since i said we were gonna talk about consequences...
what happens to your characters does not need to make sense.
I’ve known this day was coming for a week now…
I’ve known it since I typed the words “Next week we’ll talk about consequences” in last week’s newsletter…
And since I WROTE I was gonna do it, I guess I gotta do it.
Grrr.
That’s my weekend creative brain in a nutshell. Note I said “my weekend creative brain.”
I also have a weekday creative brain.
My weekday creative brain shows up for my 1000 words a day.
It loves calendars and planners and deadlines and to-do lists.
It makes sure things get done.
We might think about the part of the brain that handles the business and housekeeping side of things as the “logic” brain or our “practical” side.
But I don’t think of that part of our brain as inherently uncreative.
It’s just a little tidier about it.
A little more on top of things.
And thank goodness for it, because otherwise I would never publish a thing, meet a deadline, or make a deal!
But there is another part of my brain that needs a lot more
SPACE
to daydream…
to change course…
to run in the complete opposite direction of where I wanted to go in the first place…
Actually, there are probably a million parts of my brain that all need a very specific kind of food, self-care routine, and radio station to do their best work. Each neural pathway has a different love language and rising sign—and all my synapses disagree wildly about favorite movies and pizza toppings.*
This newsletter is my humble attempt to help you get in touch with all of them.
Which means that even though I send this out on Saturday, it would never make it to your inbox if I didn’t also give it a little bit of my Tuesday brain, too.
If I didn’t mix a little structure into the flow.
And so, here I am about to honor my promise to write about consequences.
But I’m going to do it in my way, in my time.
Here’s how I’m currently thinking about “consequences” in the novel I’m writing.
I’m not.
Well, that’s not exactly true. I’m always thinking about how to throw ironic lessons, gifts, and even punishments at my characters—active scenes built around lessons which they may or may not be able to grasp depending on who they are and how much they’re willing to grow over the course of the book.
But I’m not holding on too deeply to my initial ideas about how things are gonna shake out for them.
I’m not writing a religion, after all.
What happens to your characters does not need to make sense.
xoxoxo
Sarah
*Full disclosure: I honestly have no idea what a synapse is, let alone what it thinks about pineapple on pizza.