Okay, I've got as many as seven characters meeting up for the final confrontation in "Seer, Tyro, Fiend" and still no place for it to happen. They won't all be there together at once, but that leads to the question of who is going to save the day. Actually, it could wind up being multiple people doing the saving. The whole scene is still nebulous at this stage with only a few bits and pieces in my head.
It's times like these that I wonder about my urge to write stories. It has always been there, although it originally took the form of let's-pretend games as a child. Even so, this weird process of juggling characters, motives, scenes, clues, words seems like something unnatural while it feels absolutely natural to me. Once the story begins happening in my head, it will continue to play like a movie in my mind, filling my dreams or keeping me awake thinking about it, rewriting itself endlessly until I commit words to a manuscript. Only then will it cease haunting me.
Have to keep this post short because I have company coming to dinner tomorrow, I haven't finished half of what I need to do, and I've got one kitty with an upset tummy I have to monitor. Fortunately, our company is our best friends, so if things are not perfect, they understand.
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