I love going through my old papers.
I’m a bit of a hoarder when it comes to handwritten stuff. I don’t like throwing things away, especially if I haven’t taken the time to copy the text into a computer file. Which is kind of a good thing, because the most of my handwritten stuff tends to be fragments of stories that are trying to grow. Some of the fragments I’ll carry with me, subconsciously working on them. Others, I forget.
I’d found a stash of papers last night. They’re from September and October 2013, roughly, and they’re fragments of four stories.
One of which I’d been carrying around inside for a while, but had forgotten once I’d written it down. Which is sad, because I really, really love the characters and their quiet but grand story.
So I’ve started working on the digital draft of the story. It still doesn’t have a title, but hey, I suck at titling things. I haven’t even decided how I’m going to work their back-story into the piece, whether it will be a flashback or series of flashbacks, or just referenced.
But this story is the opposite of my usual short story dilemma. Instead of being too big of a story to fit the short format, I adore these characters so much that I want to spin out their story into something bigger, but it just will not go.
Maybe I’ll skip the flashbacks.