Scribbles & Munch

      You may recall that I'm working on turning one of my manuscripts into a trilogy.  Because apparently I have a passion for re-arranging the deck chairs on sinking ships.  And I'm actually getting to the point where I'm not looking forward to sitting down and working on it every morning, because I'm stuck.
      I wouldn't say I have writer's block, exactly; when I find a spot to elaborate with another paragraph, or a scene I want to change just a touch, my fingers fly over the keyboard.  Words I got.  What I'm lacking is the foresight to figure out exactly what my character would do in this certain situation.
      Allow me to explain: turning my gas-lamp fantasy into a trilogy means I get to make it longer (fun)!  Specifically, I've got room to add another 30,000 words to the second volume.  Which means I get to add in a few little sub-plots, and flesh out some very minor characters so they're no longer just passing scenery.  It also means that now I get to tell the tale of what happened to one of my main characters between London and Cairo.*  Which should be interesting, because he's a character who does a lot of growing in this series.

The Suez Canal has a fascinating history.  I like taking things that have fascinating history in the real world and working them into fictional stories!

      But now my dilemma: I'm not exactly sure what he would do.
      Usually when I'm stuck in a situation like this, I walk around my house doing minor chores and talk to myself out loud.  I reason out what I know about the character's personality, and ply a few "what if" situations.  Almost invariably, within a 20 minutes or less, I have my answer.  It just clicks.  What's more, I get a little thrill of excitement and motivation as scenes appear inside my head, like watching a movie, and I can hardly wait to start transcribing the vision.**
      This time, nothing's clicking.  I can think of a number of scenarios, and it's not hard to figure out what my character would do, but none of them feels right.  And I am not - NOT - putting this much gods-damned effort into this bloody story just to wank out a sub-par sub-plot.

*snort*  Hemingway...what did he know about writing?  Bah!

      So...what do I do?  Write down a draft of all three possibilities, and see if one of them takes?  Table it and come back to it later?  Pick one and run with it?  Keep talking to myself until I come up with something better or the neighbors call the cops???  ARRGH!!!
     Ok, what would you do?



*Or rather, the equivalents thereof in my fictional universe.

**This is why I carry a little pocket chapbook wherever I go, so that I can stop and jot this stuff down if I'm not near my laptop.  Far too many excellent ideas have been lost by people not taking the time to write them down.  I've even pulled over on the freeway once or twice to do this....