The month of August has been one wild ride. One kid off to college, moving him to his new apartment and saying choked-up good byes. My youngest starting school mid August and having to plunge right back into homework instead of the pool. No fair! Visitors badly in need of tlc. Politicians rocking it like it's 1895 and raising my hair on ends. Then back to back, bam, bam, a terrible cold -- why? isn't this supposed to be August? Not fair! then my period playing hide and seek... at 47 one of the spookiest uh-oh of my fertile life... and then, like exploding fireworks of doom inside my skull, a migraine on Sunday.
All the while writing a story of death and loss set in one of the darkest period in human history.
Holy shit I didn't know if my character (or I) were going to make it out in one piece.
But I did it. I plowed through. I wept and I raged and I was a terrible person to be around but the result is here: 30 pages of some of the most gruesome scenes I have ever read, let alone written. I did not know I had so much darkness in me. What does it reveal about my own basest, ugliest instincts? But every time you write, you face a fear. If you don't you're not doing it right.
And today, can you hear the chirping birds? Can you hear the silence between my ears? I'm starting a new phase of my novel. I am now writing the romance part, with beautiful Paris as a background. And I write with a smile on my lips, I get to have a little fun.
Only a little. Remember: every time you write you face fear. As my characters meet and slowly fall for each other, I am already developing a new sort of anxiety. What will this romance say about me? What will it reveal about my fantasy love life? What will it reveal that I want to keep hidden, even from myself. Who will read this? who will judge this? How sexy can it get without embarrassing myself or my children. Oh the self censorship!
Although at some point, it no longer is the author's story. It becomes the character's. I'm not there yet. Right now I'm blushing at my own prose. In all writing there is all that is under, and all that is below (well illustrated with this image, no?) secrets and lies, smoke and mirrors.
And oh but wait. This blog post? What does it reveal now?
On another note I'm excited to have a few book giveaways going on in the next few months. One will be this Friday so keep tuning in for more info. I know, I know, you already read Hidden in Paris. Right? ...right? well, maybe you need a new copy for your girlfriend or your old sick aunt.
PS: the photo is via tumblr and I don't know how to credit or embed it. But I do have a tumblr now, a small one. How could I resist?