The Slow Burn

No, this post isn't about romance novels. Heaven forbid. A slow burn outside the romance context just means, well, slow, and also a gradual process; something that takes time to reach a conclusion, or crescendo, or whatever term one chooses to signify "getting to the point". 

I've always known that my new novel, Running From Herself, is a slow burn, and I recognized that this fact alone would turn off a lot of readers. Today's readers want a fast pace; they want need action. Sagas like Michener wrote won't cut it. (Even I couldn't get through Centennial, even though I managed to slog through the opening chapters about beavers and their mates.)

Speaking of burns, I was burned by some reviews of my novellas, which complained that the stories weren't fleshed out enough. (They're novellas!) Those complaints were what spurred me to go in the exact opposite direction with Running From Herself. The story began its life as a novella called Second Chance, which as I've noted in the past, had a good premise that simply petered out. By the time I wrote it, I'd already published five novellas in short order, all of them good, by the way; but I was either too cocky (not from sales!) or too burned out to see its premise all the way to the end. Later, I thought back on it and regretted what I'd done to that good story. And that's when Running From Herself was born.

So I kept the first half of Second Chance and then let Leah Branch go wherever she was destined to go. I very deliberately refused to skimp on the story. ("I'll show those critics!") To my surprise, I enjoyed writing that slow burn. And it wasn't as if things weren't happening throughout the course of the story. I had so many ideas, I actually forgot to include some of them. 

I'd set out to prove a point; then fell in love with the story.

Which brings me to the "but". The novel doesn't take off in a gallop. When Leah lands in what will become her new hometown, she's there a while. Things happen ~ she falls in love, they break up, she finds herself fronting a band again. We meet at least one major character, who'll pop up throughout the story. It's all necessary and it's interesting. 

It isn't until Chapter Nine when the label offer comes. "Sorry; not sorry", as they say. Sure, the book blurb emphasizes her Nashville recording career and how she blows it up, but what is it supposed to say? That Leah finds the town of Chance and stays a while? I don't know if people stop reading when it doesn't get to the juicy stuff fast enough. (I don't even know if people start reading. My KU pages don't look promising.)

But here's the thing: So be it. 

I like and sometimes love the story. It's the story I wanted to tell, the way I wanted to tell it.

As for writing contests where they ask for only the first 5,000 pages? I'm screwed. Five thousand barely gets the tale started. 

People don't read the way they used to. Their attention spans have shrunk, as has mine, so I'm no different. Unless, that is, the story has enough plot points to keep me reading, wanting to know what happens and how it happens. But I'm a relic. 

It seems that the only people who've read Running From Herself were basically held at gunpoint. I paid for a professional review (which is common and accepted, by the way), and that review was fantastic. My longtime fan read it at my request, and she loved it. She even asked me to write a sequel. The blogger who solicited me? Well, the jury's still out, but I think she, too, will like it.

Unfortunately, I have no way to force other people to read it. I mean, read it through; not read the first three chapters before giving up on it. If by some miracle I ever do get reviews, they'll all say, "DNF," neglecting to add, "because I was too impatient."

See why promoting it is worthless? Readers don't get it; don't want to get it. "It sounded interesting, but where's the part about Nashville?" 

Oh. Well, that's the part you were in too much of a hurry to bother with. You would have really liked it. .

How many creatives have uttered the line, "If you'd just give me a chance!"?   

Don't mind me. I'm in my cynical phase today. Tomorrow I'll feel better.