I've dreamed of writing a novel, of holding a book in my hands that has my name on the cover, some form or children's or young adult fantasy, with strong female leads, and difficult choices to make to save the world. Even so, I didn't know what to write. I needed my pearl, my grand idea. Would I dream of it like some authors do, or be inspired by a song, or something I watched? I looked for ideas and kept myself writing away- essays on my life, motherhood, short stories we tell our children about the fat, fat king, pages and pages of book ideas and themes I'd spend between a day to weeks exploring only to decide they weren't my book. Where was my book hiding?
I have a son who demands stories often- the second we get in the car (why did I sell the portable dvd player?), at walks, and of course bedtime. To keep my demanding son satisfied my husband and I would make up wild characters and tell about their outlandish adventures. Our son would often make us backup-we weren't telling the story the right way-and inform us what should be happening. I suppose you could say he is my first true editor.
Well one night I'd been thinking about my favorite fairytale-beauty and the beast- and I told Israel a story I didn't know I had inside of me. It was a story of a three year old girl and an experience she has on All-Summer's Eve. Israel was mesmerized, he wanted more, and so did I. I wanted to know what would happen to this character, what time she lived in, her family situation, her town and it's laws, well, just everything. So I began writing page after page, throwing out some, embracing others, and feeling the story, her story, come to life. A good friend told me of her own journey into writing a novel and so we began a pact, a plan to write and support each other on our journeys to first completed and published novels.
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