I’ve had the concept in my head clear as day for more than two years. I first came up with it, and saw it almost completely whole, in a conversation with my friend Karen, who was also at that time my literary agent. But I just did not have the emotional or intellectual bandwidth to even imagine I could get ready to write another book, much less write it. I had to grieve, find a new job, try to make my love affair work, help my son through a terrible crisis, figure out what I wanted to do with my life to make it feel more right, to make it suit me and the person I was becoming on the other side of all that pain. Oh! But you all know that, because all those stories are what is here, in this blog.
I am so happy I wrote all that out, that I have a record. Because, now, standing so clearly on the other side of it all, I can’t believe the gaping hole that got punched in my life. It just doesn’t seem possible that much could happen at once. But it did. One thing after the other, for three and a half years.
And I was right when I wrote that moving to Garrison would be the end of the “ring cycle,” the operatic dramas of loss. Every single day feels fresh and brand new, and it’s such a shame that that expression is cliché, because feeling that way is anything but rote. Every day, the leaves are a different color. Every day, something in the garden has changed. Every day brings a different sky, a different mood for the birds, a reason to pay attention and know that time is passing—instead of having it slip through your fingers without even leaving an impression.
I feel filled up. There is so much I want to see and do!
And writing my book proposal, and starting the hard work of writing the book, has finally come fully alive inside me, pressing into me, sending its tendrils of possibility spiraling up into my brain.
I’m so thrilled to hear that voice again.
And I can’t wait to give birth.
I’m choosing a proposed birth date of end of the year for the proposal. I have no idea if I can make that happen, but I do know the beginning, the middle, the end of the story, I do know why I’m writing it, I do know, so clearly, what I want to say. I have chronology on my side to support the structural issues, and I have a taste in my mouth for what the language should sound like. (Mixed metaphor intentional.) I already have a lot of the riddle written. Now I just need to start solving it.
I’m excited to start this journey. I hope I can do it justice, in fair time, of course.