These times, they are a-changin’. Beyond the fact that we are fresh into a new season, trundling along in a newish year, et cetera, I get the feeling that there are good things coming my way. I wrote a while back about feeling how moving to Maryland was like stepping on a solid plank on a rickety rope bridge with the other side of the chasm in sight. While I could have taken the switchbacks down the side of the canyon years ago only to take them back up the other side with no guarantee I would end up anywhere near the destination I had in mind, the rope bridge provided a risky, yet seductive alternative. Not that plunging to my death is an attraction to me; I just meant it was a route bound to get me closer to what I want to do with what time I have here.
There’s no doubt that I’m a writer. I may be an as-yet unpublished one, but I do write. I’m even a novelist — I have indeed completed a novel and almost a second one. So there’s that. It’s just time to get this thing in gear. For the past month, I’ve been busily revising the first draft of said novel. Adding depth where necessary, detail to watercolor. As Bob Ross might airily say, I’m making happy trees out of formerly formless blobs. Not that the first draft was as vomity as I like to call it, but the voice I was searching for is getting more fleshed out in the rewrite. All in all, I’m quite happy with where it’s going. Spring time seems to bring out the creativity in me. Maybe it’s the happy trees dotting the landscape around me. Or the birds chirping. Or the spider crickets bouncing out of nowhere until I gasp a startled expletive and pounce them with my Swiffer. Nothing like battling hideous, monstrous insects to inspire a writer’s ambition to explore apocalyptic epic urban fantasy. Ah, the writing life.
But I digress. Critters aside, it feels wonderful to write. I haven’t committed my scribblings to the all-knowing iBook yet (yes, my trusty lappy is a dinosaur), but I’m working on it. And I’ve written about 50 pages recently, which bodes well for the future.
Wish me monsters.
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