This week, I started revisiting my NaNoWriMo novel. I honestly thought it would be a jumbled mess of plot holes, clichés, telling and horrifying syntax. Much to my surprise, it’s decent, which made me wonder why that is.
Like most of my stories, Oil and Boiling Water began with a creativity outburst. Like a hen laying an egg. About 1,500 words of well-rounded intrigue introduction and then stop. A plop. That’s it.
Only after this weird entry into the world did the idea start its journey. For weeks, it worked around in my brain, changing, developing, growing. When NaNoWriMo arrived, it cracked its shell and came to life, formed and able to hold its own. Don’t get me wrong; it’s fragile and needs to be nurtured into maturity. But it’s breathing.
I suddenly realized how important this incubation period is for me. The most I’ll write within that time is a rough outline. Incubation is about letting the idea live outside of concrete manifestation. To allow it to develop where no one can see it. Not even its mother. How it comes out and when it comes out becomes a great moment of bewilderment and joy.
Some ideas will never have the strength to crack their shells. Others will do but be so deformed they won’t make it to adulthood. And some ideas will take flight.
The time spent thinking about the plot is important even if nothing gets written. Once the incubation is done, the writing process becomes as natural as the birth of a quail.
What else can I say? I grew up on a poultry farm. ;)