I spent a good bit of time this past weekend writing on the newest Garison Fitch novel. What’s fun about this process is that while I know where I’m going, it’s often surprising how I get there.
Picture a car ride. I start in Dallas with the idea that I want to get to Seattle sometime next summer. I might take some Interstate, but mostly I’ll just drive until I feel like stopping. Sometimes the stops are just quick ones, but sometimes I’ll spend the night. It is not the shortest distance between two points, it’s the most entertaining (to me). ["I think they're lying. I've seen bigger balls of yarn."]
Right now, if you were to read what I’ve written so far, you might think, “Oh my! He really has no idea where he’s going with this, does he?” But I do. I know where Seattle is and I know most of the roads I’m going to take to get there, I’m just not tied to the GPS’s agenda.
To quote the immortal Sledge Hammer, “Trust me. I know what I’m doing.”
OK, maybe I don’t. But take my word that the book is going well!