I am dying to tell someone what I wrote last night, but in the wild fantasy world in which I live, my book will one day get published and become an international best-seller, so I don't want to spoil the surprise. But I can say that writing the scene was one of the most emotionally draining things I have done in a long time.
When I was deciding what to write for NaNoWriMo, my initial story idea was based loosely on my own life. Ultimately, I decided not to write that novel, mostly because I liked my new idea better. I also strayed from my original plan because I knew it would be too hard to revisit some of the things I would have to write about. Some day, I'll go there, but not now. Little did I know that my future dystopian YA would end up being difficult, as well.
I wrote the section in question in the car on the way home from my friend's house. My husband was driving, and I warned him that I was about to write something hard.
"Are you going to cry?" he asked.
"You don't understand, husband. These characters are mine. I've always known my plans for them, but that doesn't make it any easier. Also, if I get emotional over it, maybe readers will, too."
"Just, don't cry."
My husband got his wish, and I didn't cry. But I wanted to. It was still difficult. Writing can take a lot out of you. It can knock you off your feet and take the air out of your lungs. It can leave you up until 2am, struggling to come up with the perfect word when you know that none of the 25 you've written so far feels just right. But in the end, you've written a beautiful story, and all the sleepless nights and tear-filled days are worth it. (I just hope a publisher thinks so, too.)