After a week’s worth of tooth grinding, a couple of thousand discarded words, and inaction on this very site, I’ve been compelled to make the difficult decision to drop the “sharecropper” plot line to this tale. It wasn’t an easy decision to make, and it was integral to Will’s story at the conception of this story. It was a HUGE factor when the book first sprouted in my head. Arn Mikkelson has been sent to novel secondary character purgatory. He may well come back in the SECOND INSTALLMENT of this tale of rural Minnesota and all of its charm but, for now and essentially for certain, he and his talented wife and lovely children have ceased to exist. Vanished. Were never here. Such is the process.
This was not a decision I came to lightly. I had some fun stuff planned for this subplot. Alas, it was clogging up the narrative. Just one too many subplots, and it ultimately wasn’t going to have any direct impact on this novel’s outcome. It actually threatened to become a wee bit to sentimental… didn’t want that.
So, all said about him and what may have motivated him and what strange story was beneath it all is… gone. Forget everything I ever said about him.
That said, I’m in the process of a reset. Wordcount wise, I’ve crossed the midpoint, but it’s anything but downhill from here. At 50, 000 words, I’m a good 5000 to 7500 more than I want to have. I’ve got at least that many, probably more, to put down before I have what I’ll consider a proper first draft. Then the axe comes out, then the butcher knives, the scissors, the razor blade and, at last, the scalpel.
I’ve got a couple of subplots already rearing their ugly heads, and the land dispute was just adding up to too many goodies in the trick or treat bag.
Sooooooo, I’m downshifting a bit, trying to reset the brain. I could be putting up the next segment as early as Saturday or Sunday, because my head is already feeling a lot less crowded. Keep your eyes peeled.