There is a book brewing inside me, one that has been a long time coming. And like many books about “real life”, this one will probably need to wait until a few precious people have passed on to the Library in the sky. My kids are encouraging me. “People will read and believe it because they know how (insert normal/ordinary/traditional here) you are.”
It seems to me that there are fine lines to be drawn between seeking people’s memories of an event or series of events and picking the scabs off old wounds. I know writers do this all the time, but I’m not quite sure how to carry it off.
So the story is winding and wending its way around through my brain and my heart, and in honor of my One Little Word for 2015 I am being consistent in focusing on small events, one at a time, and think I am ready to begin writing. Will it get done this year? I have no idea, I just know it is time to begin.