Plotting

We had a Faber workshopping session last night, and once again, I feel like a fraud. I always feel like a fraud. It's imposter syndrome at its best. 

Four of us put out stuff for workshopping.

We have some excellent writers in my group. One of us is nearly finished the second draft of a wonderful historical novel about a woman murderer in Melbourne in the 1890s. There's another who's also well into the second draft of her Cyber/Bio punk novel. Another who's well into revising her YA fantasy novel. 

And there's me, struggling to find the story  - ore more to the point, find the way to tell the story that I want to tell. 

I managed to cobble together 1000 words for workshopping, which was something, using two Furious Fiction pieces I'd written months ago. At least something got handed up. 

But they liked it. Sure, it needed work, but they like the premise of it all, which is something. 

But I still feel like such an fraud.

So tonight, after I get back from the gym, I'll be starting the next push into this book. Get plotting. Work out where I want this to go. I need a whiteboard. 

It's not an easy thing to do. 

I've got those chapters in to that publisher. I don't think I'll be hearing from her in a while. 

But we have got something to work towards. 

It's just a matter of pressing forward. 

 Today's Song: