Work has actually begun on Adrian. It has already been deleted as a false start (again), because at long last — nine years into this idea — I have realized something fundamental about Adrian.
He’s not a killer.
He’s not a killer because I’m not. I can’t imagine actually shooting someone I love, even if I was extremely angry with them. Just guessing at what would be going through my mind if such a situation came up, I’m ashamed to say that one of the stronger arguments against pulling the trigger would be fear of damnation. Another one would be the thought of “This is it. If I kill them, there’s no fixing this; they’re not coming back; everything’s ruined. How bad is this problem?”
So Adrian’s not a killer.
Since coming to this conclusion, I’ve been worrying about a brand-new problem, namely where the interest lies in reading about the lives of a few people who are unravelling, if no one dies (or specifically is murdered). But then I read a post on Kit Whitfield’s blog, and the importance of that question has died away.
The post is this: Doing it for the ship. The line in that post that struck me was this: “From a writer’s point of view, I believe considering your work incomplete until it’s read is unwise. It requires wanting something of your audience of strangers that they may never be inclined to give; it also takes your focus off the process and puts it on the effect, something that’s always beyond you anyway.” (Italics mine.)
I’m not going to worry about it anymore. Same with Hammered.
This principle can probably apply to multiple areas, now that I think about it.