Over the hump

I'm 14,000 words into drafting The Water Siege, the first book of my as yet unnamed epic fantasy trilogy. It will really be one long book that I intend to release in three ~50,000-word installments. The Water Siege will be the hook, and I'll give it away for free while charging for the second and third installments. I've seen other authors try selling books this way, with varying level of success.

It's taken me awhile to get this far. I took up this new project in January, took a long break in February (during which I vacationed in Chile), and resumed writing with gusto in March. This past weekend put me over the hump and gave me the confidence I need.

Having written two books in 2 years, I have a feel for the process of writing a book. For me there's usually a point of crisis as I'm bringing the first act to a close. The idea that motivated me to write is depleted, and I'm forced to reckon with a lack of narrative momentum. Without momentum to propel the rising action, exposition and climax are all there is, which is to say not enough.

Getting over this hump is the difference between merely having an idea for a book and writing a book.

Here's how I know when I've gotten over the hump: When I've fully realized the setting and characters, and there's enough promising stuff to keep the reader's attention while I execute the plot.

There's a lot of risk in writing this part of the book. As I throw in various elements, seeing what sticks and what doesn't, it can get long and messy. Editing these "early middle" chapters will be important when I finish drafting.

Here's a rough sample from the start of chapter 6, which I drafted this morning:

After serving dinner, Gwen went onto the roof of inn, took the linens off the clothesline, and made up the beds in the attic and second story apartments. Her father liked to spread the guests out even if it meant having to clean the inn top to bottom every day, and tonight was no exception. He had even made Gwen move into Xavier’s old room so he could convert her room into additional guest space.

Xavier hadn’t liked it when she came in and touched his things, but that never stopped her. She often would find him stooped over his child-sized drafting table he used even as a young man, looking out the window at the buildings for inspiration. Like her, he was keen on their uncle’s trade, more so on the design side than on stonecutting. Still, his interest had given Gwen a plausible cover story for why there was an old set of stonemason tools in his room.

Now that he was gone and the room was hers, she tried to keep everything as he’d left it when he was pressed into the king’s service. The drafting table still stood before the window curtain. The chest of drawers still held his clothes, neatly folded. And his books, which she’d read through twice, still lined the shelf above the bed.

All her things she kept in a trunk by the door. She lifted a heavy satchel out of the trunk and touched the tools to ensure each one was in its proper place.

Quiet as a mouse she returned to the attic. Thomas’s bed was the farthest from door. She ducked under the gabled roof and spread the satchel under the top sheet next to the headboard. Satisfied no one would see it but him, she returned downstairs.

As always, let me know what you think in the comments. I'll reply to you as soon as I can.

I have made available the first 4 chapters of my second book, Seeds of Calamity, for free. If it piques your interest, get yourself a copy at Amazon. I appreciate the support!