We're halfway there (woah-oh) · 2:20am Mar 6th, 2015
I think we're about half done with the whole thing! Saying it out loud now, it sounds mad, but I truly think we've either passed or are exactly on the halfway point.
It's funny, y'know, that when I started this story, I had literally no idea as to how it would end. It was a small cause for concern, actually, because I thought it might stay that way.
Then, something amazing happened while I was part-way through writing chapter 3. I realised that the story was taking control of itself. All I was doing, in essence, was watching the characters do what they do, and then write down what happens along the way. It's like the story is growing organically, rather than being manipulated by me. It makes for some strange surprises in the midst of composition i.e. I think things will turn out one way, and then I see things developing another way, almost by accident. You forget that your characters are even characters!
For the sake of consistency, have a small extract from chapter 5. Among the regular storytelling narrative parts and progressing the story, it focuses a lot on Anon and AJ.
Black Bean's place was less disgusting at night. The furnishings made the extraordinary transition from tasteless to moody following sunset. It was the time of day when his regulars came out of the woodwork and sat themselves around tables and on barstools. They'd grumble about their health, their jobs, their monarchs, and their foals if they were unfortunate enough have them. It was the kind of place that stallions go after work to avoid going home to their wives.
I sat on my own at the far end of the bar, nursing my fifth lager. My four empties surrounded me, the dregs of foam forming a cobweb in the bottoms of the glasses. I stared into the middle distance, taking the occasional gulp. Rock-bottom. I had found it at last.
Black Bean offered a handful of generic sympathetic words. It didn't take much to tell that I was an animal in pain. He didn't ask what was destroying me, because it was obvious. I was destroying myself. He'd seen plenty of other stallions who would sit alone on a barstool, beset on all sides by glasses that once contained alcohol. Some might have had a messy divorce, some might have lost their job. The reason didn't matter in the end, because they all wound up on that same barstool, drowning their problems and beginning the spiraling descent into depression.
Looking forward to chapter 5.
I think I'm going to add The Grey Arbiter (is there a reason it's not named Arbitress?) to a few groups to drum up some interest. I don't know your circumstances but if you qualify, I recommend Over The Hill Authors, as everything added usually gets a look at by the members, and of course adding your story to The Writers Group. Both of which only you can add your story to. The second one would definitely get more traffic afterwards.
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This is extremely kind of you. To your question, yes, there is a reason. It will become clear at the very end (whatever could that mean? ho ho ho).