Last week I blogged about how a particular scene was coming real slow for me… and I just couldn’t figure out what the issue was. (Sometimes those characters just don’t cooperate the way we’d like them to.) After posting that blog I spent several more hours on that same section, agonizing over every single work, it seemed, until it occurred to me what wasn’t happening.
The hero of the story had spent a good portion of the book protecting his previously broken heart. Yes, he was attracted to the heroine, they’d been through quite a bit and had grown quite close, but he hadn’t surrendered. Hadn’t accepted or admitted that he was willing to put his heart on the line again. he hadn’t surrendered.
As soon as I realized that was why everything else I was writing seemed disingenuous, and quite simply untrue, it all fell into place. Once I wrote that emotional surrender, the rest of the scene flew from my keyboard quite quickly.
That got me to thinking what a power emotional experience surrender actually it is.
To be clear, I’m not talking about a physical surrender to someone more powerful than you. I’m talking about that step when a person lets go of the past or something from the past that is affecting their now. The process of letting down those big sturdy walls we can build around ourselves to protect us from pain. Or, in my case, allowing someone else to help me out by doing something for me.
I’m one of those people who can take on a lot. I want to help in every situation I can, and I want my house run my way. If someone else tries to help me by doing a chore, I really have to check myself so that I don’t obsess that it wasn’t done the way I’d do it.
Yeah, surrendering can be very tough for me…maybe that’s why it was the last thing for me to think about in that scene.