I had it strongly in my mind to start writing my next book today. Yeah, today.
The thought came to me as I was washing dishes: “Do it the way Homer showed us, in The Iliad: Jump right into the middle of the story, with both feet!” Any time I can get advice from Homer, I take it.
This story will be the life of King Ozias–his early life, at least, as he grew up in Lintum Forest.,. I think it ought to be told by Obst, putting together all the information scattered throughout the Scriptures. Obst will understand the turbulent times that Ozias knew: civil war, Heathen invasions, gangs of murderers trying to hunt him down…
All that being said, today the sky is slate-grey and it’s just itchin’ to rain on me and on my work. I can’t do this indoors because there’s too much distraction. I need the green grass, a blue sky, and the birds. God is in all those things; and I want Him to be present in my book, too.
Well, I still have to go to the store and pick up the laundry. Let’s see if the sky clears by the time I’m done.
We got good news today from Robbie’s vet. They’ve done the blood work: her kidney numbers are back down to normal, and so are her thyroid numbers. She won’t need to be checked again for six months. It’s a great relief to us.
Robbie recently had her sixteenth birthday, and that makes her a “senior cat.” You might well think she was younger than that, to look at her. She’s had more than her share of serious medical problems in her life, but she’s still ticking.
Meanwhile, the weather here has not been friendly to any writer who needs to work outdoors. I want to start writing my next book, the early life of King Ozias, who lived two thousand years ago. I think I’d like to frame it as a tale told by Obst, King Ryons’ teacher. The tale is told in Obann’s Scriptures, in bits and pieces scattered here and there. Obst will have to put it all together into a coherent narrative.
To start a new book is exciting, but also a little bit daunting. Can I do it? Can I make it work? Will it serve God? The only way to find out is to pray for guidance and write the book.
Well, I just can’t handle any more nooze today. I’m going back to re-reading Behold!–because I want to start writing another book soon, and I need to find a hook to hitch it onto the last one. It’s back to Obann for me, as soon as I can swing it.
In addition to a plotline trailer hitch, I also need a title. Years ago, when I was writing horror novels–and I got four of them published–I could never come up with a decent title. The publisher always had to change whatever title I submitted, and I have to admit that their titles were better than mine. Anybody’s titles were better than mine.
I thought, back then, that a title could just be tacked on after I’d finished writing the book. How wrong I was. A good title helps the writer steer the plot. It’s sort of what the book’s supposed to be about. You wouldn’t believe how easy it is to go off on tangents, once you lose sight of your theme.
But live and learn. I want a title and I want a hook, and I know I have to wait until the Lord provides guidance.
Because He’s a much better writer than I am.
*Sigh* “I don’t read” is not music to a writer’s ears, but I hear it a lot.
Spring is here, it’s getting warmer, and it’s just about time I started writing the next book in my Bell Mountain series. But more and more people don’t read.
I don’t understand this. If books were taken away from me, my mind would starve. Enlightenment. Joy. Excitement. Even escape, at least for a little while. Books provide these things. I couldn’t do without them.
And yet… “I don’t read.” Or else, “I only read things that have to do with my work.” Or even, “I just don’t have the time to read.” As if it were some onerous chore.
I once had a job teaching “developmental reading”–or, more simply, how to read better. It’s not hard to learn. All it takes is practice. But these days I wonder how many students, if any, would sign up for my course.
I’ll keep writing because it’s what I do, it’s who I am. But I wish I knew a way to make reading itself more popular. It’s how the past speaks to us–and the future. It’s how wisdom and experience get passed on from one generation to the next. It’s the only way we have to visit places that don’t actually exist, to learn things that are nevertheless real, and true, despite being cloaked in the imagination.
Give it a chance.