39: My Collaborators
12/24/2012
It took me a week, but I just finished Mosai’s funeral scene. One more brief scene and Lost in the Darkness will be done. Mosai’s funeral scene wasn’t so brief, however. At twelve pages long, it was the longest scene in this chapter.
Beyond its sheer length, it was the intense detail of ritual I hadn’t even worked out beforehand that made it intimidating to approach. Yet I did it in a week, and I believe it’s a solid piece of work. It just feels good to have it done as a foundation for future rewrites.
It worries me some that there’s so little dialogue. It worries me some that the rituals may seem contrived, or worse – boring. It worries me that the spiritual exposition dealing with the organ harvesting lacks poetry. It worries me whenever I feel like I’m just plugging in information to define the sociology without having it directly connected to the story. I’m very paranoid about the “who cares?” factor. I can’t stand it when author’s abuse my patience and take my attention for granted, dropping in things that no reader could possibly care about beside himself.
If I don’t like to read it, I don’t want to write it. Nobody owes me their time or attention. I must make every word earn its keep, and I’m only as good as my last sentence.
So, yes. There are several things to be concerned about within this scene, but even the more problematic sequences were only a paragraph or two.
One interesting thing about the process of writing this scene is that I didn’t map it out beforehand like I usually do for complicated, ritualistic and information-rich, scenes. I had my notes, but I completely winged it in terms of how I got to where I needed to go.
For example, I had no preconception of starting the scene with Diallo by the river until I sat down and wrote it that way. Then I had to figure out why he was at the river and how to get him to the end of the scene where Mosai’s funerary pyre would be lit. I knew everything that had to happen, but not how it would happen – until Diallo showed me the way.
This is how I prefer to work. Not trapped within preconceptions with no creative excursions, but not totally out there winging it with no supports either. Preconceptions are fine (and unavoidable), but I prefer to abandon them at the last minute and breathe into it a new life by painting in a fresh way.
Present-Day Reflection
7/2/2026
I often imagine that my characters are with me throughout every stage of the writing process. In this case, Diallo taking me by the hand as he says, “Don’t be scared, I know the way. Come on, I’ll show you.” He physically tugs me then by the hand toward where he needs to be, showing me step by step what his part in the scene requires.
Like actors on a movie set who know their characters and how they should behave, often better than scriptwriters do, they can break it down for me and explain how and why things must be a certain way. I encourage this with my characters, listening to their feedback. There may be some disagreement, but in the end, I almost always do as they suggest. And I invariably regret it when I don’t.
They’re not just my co-workers, they’re my family. And as such, I’m responsible for them and their well-being. I feel their gaze upon me constantly, waiting patiently for their father to get back to works so they can live again.
