Only a couple of things I’ve written have come hard for me, which I find a failing. I take it as a sign that I’m not pushing myself, or the story hard enough. Every story, “little” or “big”, has a place it wants me to take it. Kelly (a fully operational Deathstar if ever there was one) pounded into my skull that your first ending is a safe ending, a low hanging fruit. It’s the ending that’s expected, worn smooth and safe and absent of power from the number of times your reader has already been there with someone else.
The story I’m working on now is hard. Every rewrite is a reveal, a lesson to carry on to the next draft, a reason to ditch those words, those characters, and find better ones. Which is why I’m blogging, instead of writing it. My Afghanistan story and I need a couple of hours break from one another.