It’s also pretty thrilling, in a scary way, to be writing this Doctor Who tale as I am, on the fly, winging it. I just finished writing the 4,000 new words I just posted, and the next 4,000 have not been written yet. I know basically where it’s going, but in each installment I manage to stumble across something I was not anticipating. I once heard someone describe writing a novel as kinda like driving across the country in the dark, able to see only as far ahead of you, at any given moment, as your headlights will illuminate. Now, you can drive across the country that way, but then again, a rabid deer could jump out into your path, too, at any point along the way. Or you could run out of gas. Or you could drive off the road into a ravine, where you hang upside down from your seatbelt in the overturned car, drinking nothing but rainwater for a week while passersby above fail to hear your ever-hoarsening screams for help...

Oh, and another thing. All this Doctor Who-ness in my head has inspired me in another direction: toward trying my hand at a spec script for the show. I have an idea, and I’d like to think that it’s pretty fuckin’ brilliant, but then again, I would think that, wouldn’t I? Especially since part of the inspiration for writing this is a desire to make Steven Moffat feel the way his writing makes me feel: like I shouldn’t ever bother to write again. But instead of letting myself be discouraged by that, I’ve kinda taken it as a gauntlet thrown down in front of me. The script will probably turn out to be utter crap, but it feels pretty good to challenge myself like that. And it feels pretty good to be so audacious: Do I dare even think that I could write something that good? Well, yes. Hell yes. I dare it.

[crossposted at MaryAnnJohanson.com]

(Technorati tags: Doctor Who, writing fiction)