My work in progress, The Snow Queen, the second in the Wilderness Women series, is about a couple who are stranded in a remote cabin during a blizzard with dwindling supplies and no help of rescue.
I had it all plotted out. Names, locations, what would happen and when. Then I sat down and started to write. And everything changed because my characters took over the story and made it their own. Told me what would happen in the second half of the book, the part that I hadn’t even known would exist.
This happens a lot in my stories.
I’d like to sit those characters down and give them a lecture about following the rules I laid down for the way things would go. But I suspect that if I did, they’d simply laugh and inform me that this is their story. Not mine.
I guess that’s okay. I guess it’s the way things should be. I know it’ll be a better story because of the changes they insisted on.
But I feel a bit like a woman in a boat who is trying to go upstream without a paddle and my only consolation is that I’ve known a lot of women — and men — in similar situations.
Oh well, such is life. And writing.