I’m working on Justine Fixes Everything, and it’s one of those writing days. Write a little bit. Get up and wander around. Do small errands, like fix a buckle on Mocha’s mediumweight blanket before putting it away, and pulling out the rain sheet instead.
Write some more. Think about what I’ve written. Look at other chapters I’ve done so far. Fiddle around with something else that needs to be done.
Write more. Check out social media, and flinch away.
Not racking up the words today.
But there’s a reason for this. I’m writing a difficult passage, involving a young woman who’s been extracted from a traumatic situation. I’m literally feeling my way through this part paragraph by paragraph, because I need to think about it. Laying the foundation for the Justine that we see in other books of the Martiniere Legacy. Wondering if I’m going too far over the top with this story. Then thinking of real-life counterparts and saying “nope.”
Donald Atwood is almost too good to be true, until you realize the degree to which he’s been raised to be the kind of man who, while loving to love women, is also ethical about it. And–I think there’s going to be a physical issue involved. Still thinking about that.
But I’m still feeling my way along in this story. Justine’s voice comes slowly, in part because she wants to hide a lot of this. It’s about a period in her life where she is weak, and vulnerable. And yet it’s a part of her life that creates the foundations for her later strength, to become the fixer for the Martinieres, the one who pulls a lot of the logistics together not just for security but for transportation. It sets up the rationale for her eventually becoming the Rescue Angel.
It’s still not an easy section to write.
