Beware the Black Hole

“A black hole,” you jokingly ask? What does a gravity dense vacuum cleaner based in outer space have to do with earth bound rows of letter shaped ink plops spread on sheets of cheap cellulose? Ah, since you asked, I believe I may be able to answer this all important question.

You see, as much as I hate to admit it, I have been sucked into this dark abyss of no return destined to reside there for all of bookish eternity.* As I floated in limbo not fully realizing my predicament a saving hand of reason reached in and snatched me from the jaws of the unmercifully mundane paragraphs of purgatory.

It’s something akin to writing three chapters about a warrior slashing his way through dragons and ogres down a mountain pass. The next three chapters the same warrior has made his way through the mountain pass and into a sunny meadow. In detail his exploits are chronicled. The exciting daisy plucking adventure, followed by a three paragraph nap. A daring dinner that was unmercifully hunted down and consumed raw, known as the ravenous wild blackberry. A rousing round of toenail clipping before an early night to bed complete with melodic snoring loud enough to vibrate earth worms from the ground.

My own journey into this realm went something like this: My cast of characters had just finished two hundred pages of adventure, near death experiences, physical and mental change, both good and evil. Just an all around good time battle with the supernatural. And then they sat around, made sandwiches, and talked about what might just as well have been about the weather for the next forty pages.

Needless to say that type of writing is a big, huge, large, No, No!  Talk about an instant death sentence and not your ordinary everyday run of the mill death sentence but one that can turn a possibly great selling novel to one destined for the fast track to the shredding pile.

You desire your readers to not want to put your book down being so enthralled with its content–not throw it down in order to use both hands to stifle a yawn. Simply remember, keep it interesting…oh and that hand that snatched me from the jaws of literary death…my editor.

Lynn

*When the novel is complete

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