Explaining The Hawk (Part one)

Finally a break from the incessant rain/gray sky/rain/brutal winds/rain. The above shot was taken at 11.05 PST, noting not only the BLUE SKY, but how low the sun has dipped behind the tree line. Yes, it's the twenty-second day of November, one month left till the solstice. (Heads-up, LONG POST.)

I am *HOPING* to release Book One of The Hawk next month. It's in a pretty good place revision-wise, maybe one more read-through to confirm I have eliminated as many typos as possible. Also getting rid of unnecessary that and just too, lol. Basically making myself feel like, "Yup. This novel is DONE. (For now....)" 

For now? Really? After all it's been through? As an indie author, my novels are MY OWN and if one day I feel (STRANGELY) compelled to again read over this series and make changes.... Future Me smirks, for which I'm glad. Because while I LOVE this set of stories, I am currently feeling like it's time to, ahem, move on from them.

Having said that, there are ten books in the saga. So moving on is a relative term, hah! Why so many installments? Have I properly backstoried this tale previously? Probably not, so here's a quick rundown of The Hawk and how I wrote it.

In September 2013, I dreamed about a renaissance-era guy who turned into a hawk. Maybe it was medieval times, I don't recall anymore, but after a few nights of this dream, I KNEW I had a story to write. But not set that far back in time. At the time, I was writing short stories, so I merely figured this would be written in that vein. Lol. LOLOLOLOL. Because very quickly The Hawk turned into something far beyond what I had initially imagined, and within a couple of years, I had a saga on my hands.

Years? Yes, years, and I say that somewhat under my breath as Past Me glances up, shooting me a 'You must be kidding.' stare. I don't know where she is in that tale, but yeah, years. Why years? Because also at that same time 1) My dad was starting chemo for cancer. 2) My daughters were expecting their first offspring. 3) I was traveling between home and my hometown to help with Dad, my youngest daughter, as well as traipsing around the Bay Area to visit Eldest daughter. And learning to quilt, which could be deemed as 4). Quilting picked up the slack for my creative life when writing felt too difficult, but then I would turn around and there another novella-length stretch of The Hawk would somehow have been crafted.

In 2015, a few weeks after my father died of cancer and my first grandchild had arrived, I published the first section of The Hawk. Its release emerged due to wanting to make sure I FINISHED the tale, and looking back, by putting out sections without THE END anywhere in sight was 1) Stressful. And 2) successful. I swore I wouldn't do that again, and I've *mostly* held to that, although The Enran Chronicles has a lot left for me to write, but I've assuaged my conscience by telling myself the novels are written in a standalone manner. Cliffhangers yeah, but if a reader looks past those.... LOL. Anyway, I began releasing The Hawk as I grieved and rejoiced, because a few weeks after Part One came out, grandchild #2 was born, and then I was REALLY BUSY. Babies are amazing, and I dove into the role of grandma with all gears on. I made them quilts, cloth diaper wipes, a few bibs, more quilts, and sometimes I wrote. I wrote about people in the 1960s also having a baby, a man still turning into a hawk, as well as an ever-growing cast of characters all wanting their moments in the sun.

Part of why The Hawk became so vast was those characters, most of whom weren't on the radar when I started the book. But you know how secondary characters can be, strong-willed and chatty and important. Because by 2016 or so, this story wasn't merely about an artist and his wife and their best friends and the painter's art dealer. It was about PTSD from both the Korean War and WWII. It was about faith and finding faith. It was about LGBTQ Americans and racism in The South and European Jewish refugees in Florida. Oh and a Polish emigre in the Pacific Northwest reconnecting with a woman from his past. And several kitchen sinks, just for good measure.

So when all of that is factored in to a tale, thirteen novella-length parts end up being written, then the final section was released less than two weeks before my mum died unexpectedly of cancer in June, 2018. Meanwhile another grandchild had arrived, and one more was due that fall. But I had completed The Hawk right before my family learned why Mum was feeling so crappy. And I'm very grateful to have found THE END when I did, because after Mum died, I fell apart. I deleted my Wordpress blog, couldn't fathom writing another damn thing. I held it together for my kids and grandkids, but beyond that, I was a mess. I made four quilts for Mum's surviving sisters, aunties that offered their love and support, but were mourning as well. It wasn't until 2019 when I started coming out of that morass; therapy helped, as did the grandkids. Yet writing anything felt impossible, although I released Heaven Lies East of the Mississippi, an older novel written in 2013.

Then there was Covid, bleh. While we didn't get sick or lose anyone close to us, time with family went down the toilet. I used those months to edit The Hawk into a three-volume set, but still nothing new emerged. In late 2020, we bought what is now our home in Humboldt County. We didn't plan to immediately leave the Bay Area, where my husband worked, but in spending time far north of Silicon Valley, we pined for some manner in which he could retire early, allowing us to change our residence. Yes, we'd deeply miss our eldest daughter and her family who lived nearby, but life can be short and....

And I had started writing, but not finding much success until spring of 2021, working in the new house. That Which Can Be Remembered (TWCBR) was the series to push me back into being an active author. Then my younger sister's husband died. (My goodness, this post is going to be as massive as The Hawk!) While he was an older chap, his death from a sudden stroke brought to our attention that our existences upon this planet could be most precarious. We made the big decision to move from the Bay Area, my husband retired, and by autumn of 2021, Humboldt County was our new home.

In the summer of 2022 I published The Possibility of What If, the first novel of TWCBR. It had been three years since I had released anything new. By that year's end, Gracious Mysteries and That Which Can Be Remembered were out, and I felt like yeah, I'm still an author. Those books didn't come easily, but after all I had dealt with, I was SO GRATEFUL to be producing good work. Those books were released during my brother-in-law's fight with cancer (my goodness cancer SUCKS!), at which time we all thought he might beat it. He battled so hard, enduring debilitating treatments, yet.... In January of 2023, I was with him, my sister-in-law, and others devoted to that side of the family. Stan died at home, surrounded by beloveds, making me wonder what the hell was again happening.

Okay, it's nearly lunch time here. I didn't mean for this post to become a tome in itself, but I have a lot left to say and suffice to say, I'll return to what happened next soon. Maybe later today, perhaps tomorrow. For now, thanks for getting through this post, and I promise to conclude ASAP.