I’ve mentioned on social media perhaps that if I ever get my stories made into movies, Sean Bean will have to play Mr. Ian Woon (sorry, this is spoilery AF for books that haven’t been released yet, but whatever, there is so much foreshadowing that if you don’t know he’s gonna die, you kind of deserve it.) because he always dies. The first time it happened, it was an accident and I was heartbroken. That happened in a piece of crap story that will never see the light of day.
The next time it happened, I kind of expected it.
And the third time it happened, well, I knew from the outset. I cried like I was watching Up. But still.
I finished outlining my story I’m currently working on the other day. I knew I was going to have to kill some people. Some favorites, but before I outlined it, it was just kind of this thing that was out there.
You can’t take it back! It’s already out there!
So I knew it was out there, but it wasn’t real yet. I put the outline down in pen and paper and now it’s really real. And I’m so bummed about it. A huge middle of winter, long nights, short days, outrageous gas bill, naked Italian Greyhounds shivering, bullshit winter mourning for my precious little babies.
Part of me wants to drag it out and not kill them yet. But the other part of me is eager to get my word count chop chopping for the year. I am definitely hitting 500k this year. AND, perhaps most importantly, in this case, it’s my goofy romance novel retelling of Beowulf, so it’s not like I have a choice in the matter. They’ve gotta die. It’s just how the story goes. I think that’s what bothered me the most about Rent. Mimi is not supposed to survive. (Sorry, more spoilers.)