For the past month I’ve been struggling with chapter six of Julius. It’s a long chapter and I’ve cut a few scenes, but I’m still not happy with it. In fact, I’m wondering after all this time I’ve spent researching, reading, and writing whether I have a book in me.  Yes, doubt has crept in.

The question is whether I’ve reached this point because of the feedback I’m getting from other writers who seem to like action-packed stories whereas mine is more cerebral, or is it from all the books on creative writing I’ve been reading, or is it because I’ve backed myself into a corner and I don’t how to get out of it?

The persistent writer in me tells me to stay on course and keep fixing and writing. The doubting, and insecure, scribe tells me that maybe Julius needs to be completely thought over and most of  the feedback is correct. I think, though, what’s made me doubt myself is that I’ve been trying to neatly summarize the story. My intention was to give you, my readers, an idea of what Julius is all about, and I can’t. As I write the synopsis, without giving too much away, I see that plot is flimsy, most of the characters are flat, there’s no real conflict, and the ending doesn’t make sense.

Am I too tough on myself? Probably, but if I do have a book in me I have to be more critical of my own work. I suppose the best thing to do is to take part of that persistence along with the doubt,  look at my work critically, and rework it so it all comes together.

So, as I let out one big sigh, it’s back to the beginning . . . .