Just over six months ago, I anticipated taking time off from blogging to focus on, among other things, laying the groundwork for a fantasy epic that has been kicking around in my ahead for about ten years. I had thought that then I could finally complete the first chapter of which I had only completed two paragraphs. Unbeknownst to me, a number of obligations, some related to this blog, others to my family, would distract me from this endeavor.
Finally thought, in October, perhaps due to the encouragement of Sarah Hoyt, nearly a full six months after I had intended to begin serious work on the book, I found myself writing. Almost six months to the day after posting the piece linked above, I finished the first draft of the first chapter.
I printed it out before my trip back to Cincinnati, reading/editing it on my return flight to Los Angeles. It was a strange thing seeing word-images of paper that, for many years, had merely been ideas stirring in my head. At the time, I had never expected to write a fantasy novel, then more interested in crafting screenplays.
But, the story kept coming back to me, the characters come alive in my head, oftentimes without my bidding. At times, it seems I wasn’t creating the story, but remembering the events. And many of the characters lacked names, with one becoming known as the Young Wizard’s brother’s wife’s mother. The Young Wizard, one of the story’s two primary protagonists, remains unnamed, but, on Monday, while reading Camille Paglia’s Glittering Images did chance upon a name for the hero — who had gone unnamed even as I wrote the first draft of the first chapter of the book.
I had anticipated doing a little blogging Tuesday, but found myself editing the manuscript again by hand, then typing in the changes. The process consumed more of the day than I had anticipated, draining me of what little “creative” energy I had left after my trip.
And suddenly now I have something to show.
It was six years ago when I first “knew” where the book would begin, but I have long since abandoned the initial opening I had written by hand in a little moleskin notebook, keeping only the hero on the road, fleeing an unknown danger, accompanied by his aging mother, who knows something of the danger (and her son’s heritage).
I’m not sure I’m saying anything really valuable here, save to wonder at the creative process and to explain the slow blogging.
I know that tomorrow* when I wake, I will want to review the newly printed-out copy of the revised first draft, hoping to have a presentable copy to share before I set off to celebrate Thanksgiving with my sister and her sons. And the efforts to complete the chapter may hinder my blogging.
If blogging is slow, you will know the reason why.
*I write this at about 11PM PST on Tuesday to post in the wee hours of Wednesday morning GayPatriot blog time. So what I write as tomorrow here, you should read as today.
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