I wrote “Dante’s 9” end of 2012 after the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting. I was shocked and devastated. I can’t imagine being one of those parents. Getting a call, hearing that there was a mass shooting in the school, finding out that your child was among the twenty that this man killed.
How should one continue living after that?
I’m re-writing Book #1 right now. A few of my beta readers told me the meat on the bone is missing. So, I’m adding the muscle right now, doing some “body pump”, some “jogging”, “swimming”… Hopefully the body will be in good shape once the second draft is finished. In any case, in one of these new muscle-building chapters, my main character encounters a person who she already met at the beginning of the book (that part I wrote new as well). As they approached each other,
Think of yourself coming into a painter’s studio. The wooden floor is splashed with colors. Lots of light streams in from the windows on the south side. Some windows are open and you can hear the murmur from the market below. And the room is full of paintings. Large paintings, small paintings, bright paintings, dark paintings, but – most of them are not yet finished. The painter creates his paining in a flash of inspiration. One morning he is inspired to work on landscapes. The morning after, he wants to paint still life, but his landscapes are not finished yet. They are waiting for the next flash of inspiration.
I write like that.
Long time not seen!
I’m finishing up the book #1, and I’m trying to postpone all other things that come my way, including this blog, sorry.
But, I need to give it something to eat, otherwise next time I come back, I’ll see only bones.
Being engrossed in writing up my story, every now and then I need to do something else, just to give my brain a breather. So today, I read the part of the book I had started some months ago, but then stopped to finish up book #1.
Ken Follett, I found out recently, has 30 people to do the research for him: historical facts, architectural facts etc. I am also aware that when he wrote his first book, he didn’t have that. He had to do the whole research himself.
Like me, and every other indie author.
It’s Friday night. I’m in my bed, tired. Must be close to midnight. Eyes closed. I want to sleep.
In my mind there is a scene running. It goes on and on. I think: “Fine, I’ll remember it. Now let me sleep! “
It still goes on, and on, and on.
When I was about 11 we had a school assignment to write a science fiction essay. So the very first idea of this book appeared: far, far in the future (I’m still not sure how far that will be right now) when teleporting is the standard means of transportation, my female heroine is “ported” to complete some task on a specific planet. As the port is completed, she finds herself on a planet that does not at all correspond to what she´d expected.