The novel is about a main character who takes off and away. I knew the inciting incident had to be the best friend arriving on the island to goad her on, but I had no idea that it would be the best friend who would take over the novel, who was so waiting to enter the scene that I had almost not even to write her name before she was already on top of me, clawing over me, into the screen. And as Elsie had at first dug her way out, emerged fully-formed into my world, I was now forced into theirs by the beckoning hand of this willful, menacing character. I’d been afraid she’d be too powerful to write properly, but of course, she took care of that. Was she concerned I couldn’t write her well, so decided to do the job herself?
What it means to me now is that as I plot, I must respect that the characters I’ve grown out of inner-eyelid blackness and neurons at rest will decide the fate of this novel. The eery, beguiling tone wasn’t there before, not until I had someone else with me along for the ride. It’s touching that I’ve created a plot and put some words down on paper when what I’ve ended up with is a world, a dreamscape I can try my best now to relay, somehow, to you.