Last night I bid a happy goodbye to my middle grade novel.
It's one of two fiction projects I've been working on in fits and starts for almost two years.
I love my main character. She's got fire. She's got moxie. She's got, well, character. And chutzpah.
But I realized last night that she doesn't really have a story. At least not a compelling one.
She's a character in search of a plot.
And so, despite all her escapades and nosiness and dreams, I must bid her adieu. For now.
I've taken out a fresh composition notebook, some colored Sharpies and am brainstorming a fresh start.
Clear the decks!