Good stories and novels thrive on conflict and tension. All are headed for a climax, an arc, the mountain top experience of transformation.
And yet the writer must travel in the opposite direction, deep within her or himself, to cull out the true meaning that supports and belies the words and actions of our protagonist and supporting cast.
To write create dialogue and riveting action we must, not unlike the warrior-bodhisattva, open our hearts to the full stories of our characters.
Rather than rise above the suffering of our main character and their supporting cast, we must sink into their experience of the adventure and challenge of the story—their journey of transformation.
The story is our journey too.
Every story is a trek into our deepest passions, fears, wherein we are called as writers to take not of not simply what our characters fear, hate, and love, but what we too loath, crave and see to avoid.
Doing this allows us to connect with our characters.
Each story brings the writer an ocean of uncertainty.
We set out to make soup for the journey. Soup feeds and keeps us warm, the act of gathering its ingredients and cooking them offer us companionship.
And yet like our protagonist we encounter obstacles. Our characters frighten us. We do not like their actions.
Judgment sets in.
We must approach each story with purpose and equanimity, but with an open heart.
“May we dwell in the great equanimity free from passion, aggression and prejudice.”–Pema Chödrön, Comfortable with Uncertainty.
What frightens you most about beginning a novel?
What is your greatest obstacle in gathering the ingredients–character and plot– to your story?