Fanning the Flames

I have been working on this story on and off for about ten years now, which kind of blows my mind.  Over those years, I've had bursts of explosive passion and progress.  I've also experienced months, even years at a time, where my passion for writing was little more than a warm pile of ash.  Lately, I've had a pretty steady flame going.  And this week I finally finished the second draft, and I'm passing it on to some intrepid reviewers for feedback.  It's exciting, but also a little scary.

Tonight at the Inn my friend Lisa excitedly told some guests about getting to review my book.  The guest proceeded to ask questions and showed so much interest that I gave him a copy to take home and we're going to keep in touch.  He has already been helpful, and I can't wait to hear his opinion!  He and I had been talking earlier about how important it is to have people in your life who encourage and uplift you.  We never know when or where those people will appear, so we have to always be on the look-out for them.  Thanks to everyone who has encouraged and supported me in this endeavor, I'm blessed to have you with me on this journey.

"Set your life on fire.  Seek those who fan your flames."  -Rumi

The Beauty of the Past

I am jealous of my main character.  

For those of you unfamiliar with my story, she can see the past.  And in a city like St. Augustine, this can be a very confusing gift.  For Alex, "it can be very difficult to keep the line between the past and the present."  (A little tribute to Edie Beale :)

This gift is sometimes unsettling, as many of the events of the past are not very pleasant.  Many battles were fought for this city- many lives taken.  There are dark secrets, grisly murders, and mysteries around every corner.  And yet there are also moments of overwhelming beauty in the past- like when the city was filled with orange groves, the the men were dapper and chivalrous, the women were elegant and refined, the Alcazar was an oppulent hotel, where they enjoyed the indoor pool in the afternoons and held concerts in the ballroom above.  There are stories of romance, honor, courageous deeds, and love.

Alex has access to all these events, though at first she is unaware of the power she possesses.  But for me, I am only able to imagine what it must have been like.  And yet, I suppose there is beauty in that too- in learning what we can from the past and telling our own story of it.

Creating a Story

I have been working on my book feverishly lately, and though it's taking me longer to finish the second draft than I'd anticipated, things are really coming together.  I've been thinking a lot lately about the creative process of writing- the way plot, motivation, characters, setting, mood, and so many other elements blend in a mystifying way.  It's a complicated process, and one I'm sure I'll spend the rest of my life trying to comprehend.  For though the story comes easily to me, the writing often does not.

There's a great description of writing my Mardi McConnochie that sums up perfectly the way I often feel:

"There is something tremendously exciting about this imaginary journey; for while the words remain unwritten, the idea in your head is perfect, pristine, an object whose apparent harmony of form disguises the technical mastery which lies beneath.  Once you begin, the whole thing starts to collapse, like that tower in Pisa which began tilting even as it was being constructed.  What was melodious, simple, and beautiful in the abstract is painfully disappointing in practice... what you end up with is always an approximation of the thing you originally envisaged.  But even so, there are moments where the prose sings and you know you've done something remarkable, and I suppose that's why you keep going."

As a writer, I live for those "moments," when events harmonize and converge, when life is breathed into a scene, when the right words trickle down through my fingers and onto the page.