It's Always in There

by Jody Feldman

During the early-revision stage, I am almost always haunted by one of two related realizations:
1. My main character does not have enough motivation to carry him through his journey; or
2. He does not have enough reason to accomplish his mission without turning to adults.

Last Tuesday, it was the latter. I was working on a mess of a second draft, and I was only on page 7 when it slapped me across the face. Wouldn’t any normal 13-year-old enlist the help, or at least ask the advice, of a parent in this adventure?

The answer? Yes. At least as I had written it.
But surely, I could still craft a good story if Linc, my main character, would involve adults. These were serious problems, right?

Now, when it comes to washing dishes or navigating traffic, I am one to take the easy road. Not so when it comes to writing. Nearly two years ago, I made this New Year’s resolution, and I’ve tried to stick with it ever since.

I couldn’t settle, not with one of the first rules for writing kidlit on a brain loop: Kid-characters need to be the heroes of their journeys.

Now, it helps that I can be stubborn, especially when it comes to meeting standards. I refuse to turn to whatever muse may hang around my computer and admit defeat. For the rest of Tuesday, I tried to figure out why Linc needed to do this on his own. Nothing came. Not even rejectable ideas. I went to bed defeated, but woke remembering what always seems to work.

I looked inside that mess of a draft I was editing. And there it was. A chimney I’d happened to mention on page 63. It was a stream-of-consciousness idea that I’d thrown in for a random bit of setting, but it proved yet again that my subconscious can be sorta smart. That chimney told me why Linc didn’t turn to his parents; why he’s certain he needs to personally navigate this journey. And now, so am I.


  1. Yay for that chimney! And for you hanging in there long enough to recognized it.

  2. #2 is a big one for me. LOVE that NYR.


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