The Whiteboard

The Whiteboard was one of those keys I was missing. It’s silly, yes. But I needed one to have all my thoughts spread out in front of me. To both organize and brainstorm the story that was ruminating in my head. Actually I wanted a blackboard. One of those huge ones in high schools, probably more prevalent when I was in school than now. I went to an office supply store and they said they could get me one but it never materialized. Maybe it never fell off the back of the truck or school bus they were counting on. So my thoughts got compressed by 8 x 8 feet or so. Maybe for the best.

I bought books. Various “how to write a novel,” books. Outlining Your Novel, and Structuring Your Novel, both by K.M. Weiland. The Weekend Novelist, by Robert J. Ray. It was all organized and planned out, every single chapter.

And then I started writing. The killer turned out not to be the killer at all but someone else entirely. That’s the fun part of the process. The discoveries unexpected. Erasing and adding new ideas to see if they work. And now I’m close to the finish (of THIS step). Erasing the board is a bit daunting. I will miss looking at this scribble, but excited for all that blank space to start again.