Monday, October 18, 2010. . .
THE WRITING. . .My agent once told me that “somebody has to die.” He had read opening pages of a new project of mine and wondered at every character being so nice. =)
I’ve often repeated his advice to myself. It’s probably why I am able to allow a character to make a stupid choice and pay the consequences. I dig deep, though; I want them to be compelled to make such a decision out of a woundedness. The fallout needs to be, on the surface, unfixable. It just is.
It has been on my mind again as my fifteen-year old character and her parents go at it. I’d rather they were all nice and peaceable and reasonable. =)
A day of important story progress. Everyone and every situation is in place. I feel freed up to do some editing on the last story. I have not yet, after all these years, found the ability to work on two different stories simultaneously. I will set aside Heart Echoes and focus on Desert Gift.
One of my wise and wonderful editors has made tweaking suggestions. Sometimes suggestions are major, some are out-and-out strong “how about overhaul” ideas. But she promises that we are down to minor tweaks on this project. I hope so. By this point in the process I am always a bit tired of these characters. Ha, ha.
I will read through the manuscript and make appropriate changes and the story will be so much better due to this fine-tuning. So, another deadline is on the calendar, November 3rd. This is my last turn to take a whack at it. Then she will finish up, then others will do their specialty to get it into print, bound in a cover, with all the extra goodies. Then others will get it from a warehouse to a shelf.
A book is so obviously a team effort I do not know why only my name is on the cover.
DETAILS. . .Walk in early morning mist. As often happens, this is where the writing began for this day, my folks reminding me of this and that about themselves. =)
I read Psalm 84, next Sunday’s reading. Three years ago I marked it in my Bible as Sunday’s reading for October 28, 2007. That was six days after the wildfire destroyed our house and – except for a few things – every material item.
I had underlined three verses: “How I love your palace;” “The sparrow has found its home at last;” “Yahweh withholds nothing good.”
Hard words to comprehend in the wake of such loss for us and hundreds of others. But, because I underlined them, I know they spoke to that place inside of me where comprehension is a heart thing. They told me that my home always is, that it is in the presence of God which is a palace; it exists everywhere, at all times; it is indestructible, good, and perfect.