I’m now over 28,846 words into my novel and I’m only on Chapter 5. Things are coming along smoothly, or so I thought. Last night, I had a dream.
Enter Me, Protagonist, and a large comfortable couch. I sit on this couch. Commence scene.
Me: Woah. This couch is comfortable.
Protagonist: I’m pissed off.
Me: Why? I though the novel was coming along nicely. I got a huge chunk of work done.
Protagonist: You realize how nice my parents are?
Protagonist: They’re TOO nice. Where’s the conflict? I thought you wanted to have me turn into a bad-ass. The only thing this story is going to turn me into is…well, nothing!
Me: You turn into a werewolf.
Protagonist: psshhh pleeaasseeee. Most of this novel was nothing to do about werewolves, and you know what, that would be okay if it was about SOMETHING.
Me: Like responsibility? Change? Learning about yourself?
Protagonist: And when does any of this stuff ever come into play in the novel?
Me: It has. I think.
Protagonist: Yeah. Let my parents talk to you.
-Enter protagonist’s parents, slightly different than I pictured.-
Mom-Parent: I need to bitch more about her grades.
Dad-Parent: I need to bitch more about her appereance.
Mom-Parent: Don’t forget lack of social skills. And friends.
Dad-Parent: That’s right. -to Me– ARE YOU GETTING ALL OF THIS? We WANT to be dicks.
Protagonist: And I want something to be wrong with me. Take a few good whacks at my self-esteem. You should re-evaluate your theme, too.
/ End Scene.
I think I’ve got some work to do.