rivers_bend

At some point when I was in grad school I acquired a book that gave me the following advice: In order to write a story worth reading, you must put your protagonist up a tree and throw rocks at him repeatedly. (in the book, context clues told you that rocks are a metaphor for obstacles, here we will use a parenthetical)

I have generally been more the kind of girl who puts her protagonist up a tree and throws the boys of his dreams at him and watches them make out. I like that method. It makes me happy. But this last week I've been writing a story where I cannot seem to stop throwing rocks at my protagonist. It also makes me happy (so happy, omg it's so much fun this story), but it means that I've hit 12K and my protagonist has yet to utter so much as a single word to the boy of his dreams. Apparently what the advice-giver dude meant was If you want to accidentally write a novel when you meant to write a PWP...

I was going to finally get to the whole speaking point this morning, but a rock was thrown at me, in the form of THIS VIDEO IN WHICH THE BOYS FROM MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE DRESS UP IN SNOW SUITS, JUMP AROUND, AND SING ABOUT SPECIAL SNOWFLAKES HOW EVERY SNOWFLAKE IS DIFFERENT

See???

Yo Gabba Gabba, I appreciate you. You bring me this.