into the future
yesterday | today | tomorrow
Here we are, on the verge of transition from one year to the next, one decade to the next. It has been a momentous time, and standing here at the rim of the future, I’m exhilarated and nostalgic at the same time. Do you feel the same? As I enter into a new phase, I know my final tinkering on Once Again will have to end. I’ll send my best effort to my brilliant editor for her advice, and then I’ll get the draft back and get to work again. But eventually, I’ll have to let go. I will miss that world and its people. My focus will change from the fun of the creative process to the thrill of introducing the work to readers. I know some authors dread this part, but, honestly, I can’t wait. I’m eager to show you what I’ve made. I think you’ll like it. :)
As for moving forward, a dear friend of mine once advised me that the last step of any project is to get cracking on the next one. And so I have. I’m excited to explore the new novel ahead of me. It’s burgeoning in the background of my mind, and I’m reminded of a quote from Ann Patchett about how she feels at this stage of a new project. In The New York Times, she wrote:
For a long time before I start to write a novel, anywhere from one year to two, I make it up. This is the happiest time I have with my books. The novel in my imagination travels with me like a small lavender moth making loopy circles around my head. It is a truly gorgeous thing, its unpredictable flight patterns, the amethyst light on its wings.
after I wrote this post, a lavender moth landed in my backyard, so I’m adding a photo of it…
Her essay goes on to describe the trials of trying to get the beauty of that moth onto the page. But I don’t have to think about that yet. All I have to do now is bring my finished story out for you guys in reading world to see, and, at the same time, I’ll let the loops of the new story unspool into the days ahead of me. Welcome to 2020. I’m so glad you’re here.
—cwh