Deanna Repose Oaks

All about my written words.

rabbit hole

Journal #39

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I fell down a rabbit hole. This rabbit hole was that of a series of 9 books. 9 books that I read on a whim in the space of just over two weeks while working a full-time job, keeping up with housework, and sleeping at least 8 hours every night.

Funny thing is, I am not changed by the books. There was no affect on me other than the impression of good dialog and interesting ways the author moved the story along from one chapter to the next, one book to the next, one format to the next. In other words, these 9 books, while entertaining, only kept me enticed by the use of language and the use of story mechanics, not by the stories themselves.

This is the second time something such as this has happened to me. The last series I fell into like this was 15 books long and I just HAD to see what the author came up with for the next hook to get the read from book 11 to book 12…. I wasn’t all that interested in the stories.

This rabbit hole at least has a counterbalance because I will have a comparison to see how it translates to film. It should prove very interesting, indeed.

Yet…

Throughout the stories, I have found myself reminiscing over Austin, both Bronte sisters, and the Brothers Grimm. Wondering the whole time if the author did that purposefully or just happened to write that way because that is what she reads. I know I am guilty of the latter…

Journal #28

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Better late than never, right? LOL … I found myself at the bottom of a rabbit hole of my own making. I was cleaning my office out and found my original notes and drawings that led to my novel that is not yet done. I started reading and forgot to lift my head out of the sand long enough to write my weekly blog post.

What pulled me in all the way to the bottom was studying the differences of where the story began (those notes/scribbles and a few drawings) and where the story is – how it has blossomed into the amazing thing, seemingly from nowhere. I wrote it, and I still can’t believe it.

Part of me knows that the disbelief I feel when I am writing is due to lack of confidence. I never think anything I write is any good. As you can probably tell, my mind is starting to change on that front. I did, after all, call my novel amazing even though it is not yet finished. I’m past the point of faking it, and I am making it, ever so slowly (and possibly a little late) but I am making it…. somehow.