Novel-in-Progress Dead End: How to Find Passion for a Forgotten Message

I have been working on my untitled NaNoWriMo manuscript since, well, November 2010. Several people have read it and LOVED it. I have received really good and constructive feedback which has been very encouraging. I relay this not to be boastful but because in spite of this feedback, I am not sure I love this book, which is a terrible feeling. It makes it difficult to be passionate about it which is probably why I’ve had difficulty with a second draft—I just keep sort of poking at it with little direction or enthusiasm. When I read through it, I know there is much good there. The characters are authentic and likable, much of the prose is solid, the plot is well-knit and the pace—with a few minor tweaks necessary—works. So what’s the problem?

Have I hit that proverbial dead-end?

Part of it is the break I’ve taken from it. I wanted it to ripen, which is good, but it seems to have slipped away from me a bit—my energy for it, my devotion, the story itself—and I am having difficulty diving back into it. I need to reconnect with that feeling needed to drive creativity—when you want to do nothing but that project and you think about it all the time. So consuming it prevents you from falling asleep. Butterflies in the belly. It seems my desire for this novel has ebbed away.

But why?

Too much space from it aside, I think the core of the problem is that I don’t know what this story is about. How do you write more than 75,000 words and not know what a story is about? Well, evidently you can. And that, I think, is at the heart of this. I had an abstract vision for this novel, which was abandoned when it took some different turns. Novels have a bit of a mind of their own, as do the characters within. Where I started with this novel is not exactly where I thought I would end up. This is a good story and I really like the characters, but what is its message? What is it saying that will be meaningful?

I strive to write about things that matter and speak to the human condition in a meaningful way. I don’t want an agenda to be screaming loudly beneath my words, but I need that bigger purpose driving the passion, bringing me back to the page.

Is there something fundamentally wrong with this novel? I don’t think so, but I need to figure out its purpose, its message, or it will never be what I want it to be. I don’t think it’s too late to incorporate some of my abandoned ideas back into the story. I think I must in order to locate the urgency to write. It’s what lends authentic life to the work. How can I “sell it” if I don’t fully believe in it? The simple answer: I can’t.

I don’t think this is a dead-end street. Novels are unwieldy—I must forge the new pathways.

Oh, and I found something really cool that could prove to be very useful with this pile of spaghetti I have. In looking around the Internet for some ideas on how to approach this renovation, I stumbled across Scrivener 2.0, which is a “content-generation tool for writers that allows you to concentrate on composing and structuring long and difficult documents.” They offer a free trial that lasts for 30 days—30 actual days, not one month. So, if you use it every day the trial ends after 30. But if you use it only 2 days a week, you get 15 weeks of use. Pretty fair, I would say! I’m going to start my free trial tonight and I’ll let you know how it works. Wish me luck!

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