I should call this post "Revenge of the Plot Bunnies" or "Why Andrew Shouldn't Pay Attention To Other People's Conversations on Twitter".
Unfortunately, I'm a slow learner because that's exactly what happened. And now, like Hate Jacket before it, I have a GINORMOUS plot bunny sitting on my head.
I would love to blame Trisha Leigh, author of The Last Year series, and Jennifer Iacopalli, author of Game Set Match. Because it was their conversation that I jumped into. It started with Trisha asking if the app SnapChat was designed for sexting. I'm guessing she had heard about it on the news or the internet and was asking. I had heard about it on a local radio station a few months ago. Anyway, Jennifer responded with yes and then one of them made the comment that the owners of the app will probably post all the pictures somewhere (conspiracy theory!).
It was then that the fateful words were spoken. "There's a YA story in this somewhere..." At which point, my overly active imagination latched onto it and the plot bunny landed on my head.
I'm supposed to be working on my NA Paranormal story. Julius' story (and any spin-offs/sequels) was supposed be my only foray into the world of YA Contemporary stories. I am supposed to be a SciFi/Horror/Paranormal/Thriller/Fantasy type writer. Hell, just look at my bookshelves. 99% of the books on there are SciFi, Fantasy, or Paranormal. My kindle is the same way.
So why?! Why is my brain wanting to write this story?!
I would blame Jennifer and Trisha, but they are both really sweet and nice people. I'll blame the universe. It's to blame for everything.
I'm actually a little frustrated by this story idea. Not because it isn't good or that I can't pull it off, it just isn't what I imagined myself writing.
This isn't the first time my preferences were trumped by what I was creating.
When I was in college, I studied music. Specifically, music theory. At one point I was taking composition classes. I had grand ideas (as are all college students). I loved the classic masters (Bach, Beethoven, Wagner, Mozart, Mendelssohn, etc.). I wanted to write in that style. It was the music I loved to listen to (and still do). Unfortunately the one piece of music I wrote that actually sounded good, did not mimic these masters' styles. In fact, it sounded like Aaron Coplan.
I'm not a big fan of Aaron Coplan. It's not that I don't like his music, it just isn't what I reach for when I'm in the mood for some classical music. It sounds too American. Cowboys and Beef commercials (his song Rodeo was used in commercials for several years).
My piano piece, River Fanfare, is a fun piece. It's fast, sounds awesome, but it also doesn't sound like Beethoven. A part of me hated it. Not the music, but the fact that I couldn't write the music I wanted. It's probably part of the reason I have a degree in Music Theory and not Composition.
This new YA story is the same thing. It isn't what I envision myself writing. There's a part of me that hates the idea of it. Rails against the concept, even.
However, I also know that I can't force myself to write something. I have to let it exist. I can't become bitter and angry about what is coming out of my head. Writing this story doesn't mean I've failed, it just means that's what is coming out. So yes, I will write this story. I don't know if it will trump the NA or what, but I do have a lot of ideas for it. Names, places, events, actions, consequences, mistakes, redemption.
Yeah, it's a loud one.
'Till Next Time.