When the GPS Fails....Follow Your Heart

I'm terrible with directions. You'd think that having traveled throughout Asia and parts of Europe and America that I'd be like a girlscout with a compass. Not so.
It's not that I don't mind being lost. I hate it. I guess it's just that I figure somehow I'll make it from point A to point B.
Not everyone is so forgiving of my navigational challenges, though. So, after years of trying to instill a sense of direction in me and failing, my husband went out and bought me a GPS.
Oh, I love my GPS. It warns me when a turn is coming--all in a handsome British accent. When I miss the turn, that brilliant Brit re-configures the route. I haven't been lost once in the year that I've had the thing. Not once.
Until this past weekend.
On Saturday I drove up to San Francisco to volunteer at the National Kidney Foundation's 20th Annual Author's Luncheon. (Despite our horrible economy, there were 1200+ guests in attendance, which was a heartwarming thing to see. ) Five wonderful authors talked about writing, including Tobias Wolff who spoke about how he didn't grow up reading the greats and wanting to be like them, but grew up reading these unknown dog stories and wanting to write something as fascinating. Andre Dumas, (The House of Sand and Fog), said he wasn't aware of theme and other literary tricks, but he just wrote.
At the end of that inspirational afternoon, I pulled out of the parking lot to head home. I waited to hear that clipped British voice telling me where to go. After I'd driven several blocks in an area I didn't recall coming through, I looked over at the GPS screen. A little blue light flashed, 'Your GPS Signal was lost."
"Oh," I thought. "Well, I'll just back track."
But then the street I came in on was a one-way.
Hmmm.
I drove around, looking for someone I might ask directions from. But the surroundings got less and less conversation-friendly, as people bumbled into the middle of the street in undershirts and baggy pants. This definitely wasn't the way.
It dawned on me that although my dear co-president of the Kids Can Write camp, Sue Oksanen, insisted the city is only 49 square miles, it felt larger. I could get lost for hours. At that moment of despair, I followed what looked like the right road. Then I heard my British buddy say, "In 300 yards, make a right turn."
Yes! I was headed the right direction. And My GPS was back!
I was thrilled.
This familiar episode of stumbling around in the dark, unsure of where to go next, reminded me of writing. I'm often asked whether I do outlines or just write. I do both.
With My Half of the Sky, I didn't start with an outline. I knew where my character was going to end up. I just wasn't sure how to get there. So I started writing. And writing. And writing.
Midway through the project Plot Consultant and friend, Martha Alderson (http://www.plotwhisperer.blogspot.com/), tried to help me plot out--scene by scene-- what was going to happen. That was IMPOSSIBLE. There were so many twists and turns I didn't know of yet. I needed to keep fumbling along. Still, the exercise was helpful in illustrating where the characters had come from, where they were headed, what actions were in store for them when.
So these days I do a combination. I map out a vague journey, create a basic GPS to follow. (Thus when I hear my Handsome Brit telling me I'll have to turn in 300 yards, I can write accordingly.) But when that trusty GPS fails--and it always does-- I resort to my tried and true method of trust. I trust that I'll get from point A to B. Somehow.