Well, turns out, the tunnel led somewhere worthwhile. (Side Note: If you’re wondering where the tunnel started, or even where the tunnel came from, check out last week’s post here.)
But to briefly recap, I had a crisis of story conscious last week in which I wondered if trusting my story gut was the right thing to do (while believing it was). I was also anxious that my D&D group was going to disown me for making a poor choice about some possible enemies.
Good news—I am not disowned.
Even better news, my gut feeling became a fully explored option that actually worked quite well (well, for the most part—there’s always a die roll to contend with).
The exact details of what went on don’t necessarily matter, but for thoroughness (and amusement): My character had befriended an ogre that was working with the goblins we were sent to deal with. We had decided to try giving the goblins poisoned ail, and my gut feeling told me not to poison the ogre. Later on, this turned into the realization that, as a bard with great social skills, I could probably convince the ogre to help us, particularly since we seemed rather outnumbered by the goblins.
So, when we reconvened, I did just that. Aside from that die roll that was out of my control, it went well. I now have other things to contend with, but that’s a problem for next session.
In the meantime, the hopeful idea I had last week has turned into a full-blown lesson about trusting my gut and letting the story unfold organically. I didn’t know if my character’s actions would work out, but I trusted myself, went with it, and figured out a way to make it work. Initially, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to. There were so many variables. Some of those things helped me along, but even if the variables had shaken out differently, I had backup plans. I knew where I wanted my character’s story to go, and I got it there.
In short, trusting myself was a good choice.
And that’s true of far more than D&D. It’s also true of me as a writer, editor, coach, and general story nerd. I know when something’s not working, and I know when something works well. Not always consciously, but my gut knows. This is partly from years of digging into what makes stories tick and understanding how to feel them having an effect. But it’s also from my choice to step back, really look at something, and be honest about it.
I do this often with my own writing. I’ll spend hours or days trying to fit a round story peg into a square hole. I know it doesn’t work. I know it’s not going to work the way I want it to. But I don’t want to change it because it will make more work. Ultimately, though, I pretty much always end up making changes because my gut is right. I won’t say never because the minute I do, I’ll think of a situation where I didn’t make a change. Almost without fail, though, I know when a story needs something other than what it’s got.
So, on that note, if you’ve got a story that your gut needs some help with, feel free to get in touch through my contact page (linked in the top menu).
Otherwise, I’m going to cut this here because I’ve spent the last few days working on documents and setups for a new project I’ve got in the works (details coming soon), and I’m a little sick of my desk. So I’m going to go exist somewhere else for a bit.
Til next time, keep story-ing! (It’s a word now. Just go with it.)
👋 Fair travels,
Mary
P.S. A big thanks to shogun from pixabay.com for the image.
