Drawn into the story

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Another new shiny; such a fun block from Jodi Godfrey's Cornflower Quilt.

A few mornings back I woke far too early. Eschewing the usual cup of tea, I sat at my computer, pulled up a file and began to read a story I wrote in the summer of 2013. I didn't start at the beginning, jumping into about the last third, as I knew this draft possessed a rough introduction. Yet where I read, the prose wasn't bad. By that part of the draft, I had a feel for the characters, and when it ended, I was a little sorry it was over. I was really tired too, ha ha, but the next day I perused it from Chapter One, not minding all the blah blah blah that needed to be excised. By Chapter 6 the writing was decent, and I decided to make this story my next project.

(Not that I need a new shiny, but....)

What's intriguing about this novel is that as far as I can tell, from the few notes taken, I have no idea what spurred the plot, no frame of reference other than where it sits in a list of all I've ever written; begun in late July, it was completed at the end of August 2013. Fortunately I made copious notes when I was done drafting it; I clearly recall scribbling in pen major plot points for the necessary sequel. But that continuation never materialized; I began writing The Hawk two months later and for the next five years my writing life was consumed by that saga. And a lot of personal upheaval to boot.

I can tell you why the sequel never happened; I thought The Hawk was going to be a short story. Insert BIG EYE ROLLING EMOJI HERE. I was going to write that short story, then get back to the summer book, but instead my dad's journey with cancer took a detour and The Hawk became its own behemoth and suddenly my father's end of life was butting up against my daughters both becoming mothers as I continued to work on one story. I started quilting then too, which was easier than writing in the picking it up, then putting it down. Yet I trudged onward with one novel, said hello to a first grandchild, goodbye to Dad, howdy to another grandchild.... The last nine years have been full of familial alterations as well as books, which seems to have led me to a few early mornings ago with a story that has been patiently waiting.

And now I'm all in, hook and line and sinker, but this is a different sort of helplessness than when I initially wrote this tale. I'm nine years older, a grandma a few times over, in a far different location geographically as well as emotionally. Plus there's the 'Let's take a really rough draft and see what happens' aspect, but I'll analyze that in a future post. For now I'm balancing this new tale alongside the current series, not worried about mixing up the books. Keeps it fresh, as well as maintaining perspective. Novels come and go, and sometimes they return when least expected....

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