Last month, I wrote about an image I've had of a woman walking through the streets of D.C. during World War II. I wasn't sure what her story was. She's been quiet since then, but yesterday, she spoke up.
I really liked what she had to say. In fact, her story is a fascinating one and it's nearly making me want to abandon my current work-in-progress to find out more. The two stories couldn't be more different and to tell you the truth, the novel I'm writing now is...boring me.
That's not a good sign. If it's making me bored writing it, it will put the reader to sleep. I'm thinking I need to take a good, long look at it and figure out what's wrong.
Or I could scrap it (hard to do when I'm written almost 30K on it and I really do like my characters...) and start on another one.
I could work on both!