Raising the Stakes

I recently had a conversation with another writer about what it means to "raise the stakes" for a character. In my novel, Sara has several relationships that break apart over the course of her story. I realized last week that a third relationship - one that she counted on forever - needed to implode. Perhaps forever? I needed this to happen to raise the stakes for her "choice" at the apex of the story arc. To further illuminate the resolution of the conflict.

The stakes in my own life have been raised over these last few weeks by the loss of a friendship. One that I counted on being around for a very long time. What I wrote for the novel preceded my own experience, but the proximity of these events is interesting to me. A foreshadowing of what my intuition was already becoming aware of in my friendship as well.

Waiting sucks. Loss sucks. And in art, as in life, the stakes are constantly being raised. I know how Sara's journey ends, although I'm not exactly sure how she gets there. In contrast I don't know how my story ends, and I definitely don't know how I get there. I hope life imitates art. I hope Sara teaches me about making good choices. I hope I pay attention.

Photo courtesy of Sausyn

Too Tired To Title :)

I bet I woke up half a dozen times last night after falling asleep well after 1:00AM. Ugh. I can't complain too much because each time I awoke, a problem was worked out in the novel.

For example, I solved the question as to who gave the rabbit to Sara. I also learned the nickname Thomas gave Sara when they were little: "Skittles". I discovered when Sara's dad gave her the hat she's wearing at the bus stop in the story.

Am I becoming obsessed? I'm super tired this morning and not sure if I can type (although I probably will anyway) with any kind of sense-making skill. But that's what first drafts are made of - clumps of awakenings and discoveries and dreams.