There’s a moment in The Shadow #6 (of DC’s Bronze Age run of the pulp character) where the Shadow’s aide Harry asks why they’re hunting a ninja vigilante when he seems to be on their side. The Shadow replies that “My instinct says he isn’t — do you care to quarrel with my instinct?”
I find myself muttering variations of that phrase quite often when I’m writing. A lot of my decisions come from instinct, a gut-level sense of what needs to be there. This is separate from the pantser/plotter distinction: even when I have a good idea what has to come next, instinct still plays a role in getting it on the page. How much detail? Fast or slow? Are characters’ reactions plausible or not?
Instinct also plays a role at the big-picture level of what the book’s supposed to be. In Southern Discomfort, it’s not just the story of Maria and the supporting cast fighting Gwalchmai’s murderous plans. It’s also the story of the Pharisee Community. Gwalchmai murders Aubric McAlister, an elf who along with his wife Olwen has steered things from behind the scenes for three centuries (a secret known only to long-time Pharisee residents, not to the newcomers of the past twenty years or so) right before Chapter One starts. After 300 years, the two elves are deeply tied into the land; with Aubric dead, nature’s running wild, from torrential floods to stillbirths.
Not only that, the mortals of Pharisee have to deal with the loss of Aubric’s influence, something they counted on forever. The McAlister’s long relationship with the older families gave them the ability to persuade people to keep things running the way they liked. With one of them gone and Olwen grieving, everyone’s wondering what’s going to change. Some people see threats; others see opportunities.
That leads to lots of scenes separate from the A-plot. Business and political discussions. Debates over the county’s complicated racial history. It’s possible they’ll work against the book: they slow down the story, leading to the feedback I got that it’s urban fantasy with an epic fantasy’s slower pace. They did not think that was a good thing. Possibly they’re right, but my instinct says that’s what the book needs to be anyway.
On the other hand, following my instinct doesn’t guarantee I’m doing good work. In earlier drafts, the shifting viewpoints left my writing group unsatisfied when they heard sections of it. I’ve now given Maria, as the main protagonist, first-person narration, which helps her stand out. Everyone else gets third-person. I’ve also built up a couple of the supporting characters, Joan Slattery and Rachel Cohen, to give them larger roles, making it slightly less an ensemble.
Will that work? We’ll see what people think when it comes out in a few months.
And sometimes I don’t have a clear instinct about which way to go. In Mandy’s first scene in Let No Man Put Asunder we meet one of her family, her best friend Peg and learn quite a bit about her. Would it would be better to trim some of that back and trust her frustration and narrative voice will keep the reader interested until they learn more at the end of the chapter?
Maybe. That would make for a faster opening. On the other hand, shifting the reveal of her backstory a couple of thousand words later isn’t exactly a game changer. I think I’m making the right call but I’m definitely looking forward to getting feedback.
#SFWApro. Cover by Mike Kaluta, all rights to image remain with current holder.
I fell well short of my November goals though I’m not sure where I went off the rails. December is going to be … complicated. My sister called this morning to say Dad’s dying (which she predicted during my 
Another week where things did not go as well as planned. But let’s start off with good news: I had my semi-annual checkup this week and all my signs (cholesterol, weight, blood pressure) are better than last time. So yay! This is good.
Does that look like a plain Jane to you? Another post looks at how often superheroes wind up fighting when 
Two of the Con-Tinual panels I’ve been on are up on YouTube, one on 
