In which I think out loud

"I gotta tell my story. It's the only way I can make things right." ~Jed, a character in my new WIP

Jed said these words to me yesterday--along with many others. He's the first character I've met in quite some time who's been very willing to divulge his story with little prompting from me. If I let him go on this way--telling me bits and pieces of his life--I can see the story forming. It's only when I start to second-guess him that the direction of the story becomes unclear.

I second-guessed Jed today.

Jed appears to me as an octogenarian with a need to tell about the things that have happened to him throughout his life, showing how the challenges he faced led him to his current situation. The story he tells encompasses not only his early life but also his later years with his own family--his wife and children--and highlights his regrets and the wisdom he hopes to impart to his grandchildren, in the hope that they won't make his mistakes.

Today, however, I started to wonder if the story would best be told with a focus only on Jed's youth, written as a young adult novel about how he coped with his mother's illness and how that illness affected him and shaped his character. I can see two possible challenges if I choose this scenario: first, I've never written young adult novels, and second, I've never written a male main character. Neither of these challenges is insurmountable, of course--there's a first time for everything, after all--but I admit that I'm a little nervous about this second scenario due mainly to my lack of knowledge of the young adult market. Reading current YA books would help, of course, and to this end, on Twitter today I asked for recommendations of good, well-written young adult novels with strong male main characters. I would appreciate your suggestions, too--just in case I choose to take this path.

I think in the end, I'm probably going to have to try writing both stories to see which one fits Jed best. No matter which focus I choose, this book will be a challenge for me both in its subject matter and in its form--but it's a challenge that I'm looking forward to.

In Memoriam

They fell, but o'er their glorious grave,
Floats free the banner of the cause they died to save.

~Francis Marion Crawford, American writer


Let us never forget.

Going along for the ride

"Write down the thoughts of the moment. Those that come unsought for are commonly the most valuable." ~Francis Bacon, Sr., English lawyer and philosopher

There's nothing better than a story idea that comes out of nowhere, sparking the imagination with no provocation. Each morning as a writing warm-up, I write 100 words on whatever topic comes to mind. This morning I was penning words about my WIP when I found myself writing instead about an octogenarian named Jed. I have no idea where this character came from or why he started to tell me his story at that moment, but I allowed him to talk. And talk. He's been walking beside me all day, and I've listened carefully as he's shared stories about his life: about his father, who died at a young age; about the years when Jed ran away from home; about the wife that Jed recently lost and the children who rarely visit... All day long, the words have continued to flow. I'm not sure exactly where this character will lead me--I don't know whether he's a main character in a short story or a minor character in a novel--but I'm thrilled to be going along for the ride.

These moments don't come to me often; a character I've never met before doesn't usually start whispering his life story. But I'm always grateful for these unsought thoughts, these ideas that come unbidden to take root in my mind and heart.

Family really is what it's all about

I wrote this short paragraph earlier this afternoon:

 

My mother-in-law and sister-in-law are visiting today. The kids were so excited to see them, especially my son, who, as he waited for them to arrive, kept saying over and over "I'm getting so tired of waiting" until my husband and I, though a little exasperated, just looked at each other and laughed. Right now, my daughter is napping upstairs while my son--my inquisitive, happy little boy--is outside with his Aunt Kathy, collecting bugs with his new bug detecting kit, which he just received from his long-awaited and very loved grandma and aunt.

 

It's been a wonderful visit. Tomorrow the two of them will come over for brunch before making the three-hour drive back to Pennsylvania. After they leave, I hope to catch up on my writing and my blog commenting. I hope all of my friends in the Unites States are having a great Memorial Day weekend!

Silver lining

Today's 100 words:

 

It's another dreary, rainy day here in Western New York. My husband commented on his way out the door this morning that he's beginning to think he lives on the West Coast. It's true that we usually don't get quite so much rain here. I'm not crazy about it, but I try to see the positives: the kids love stomping in the puddles, my son likes the worms and using his Thomas umbrella, and the rain cleanses the town and brings new life to the lawn and flowers--something bright and cheerful to look forward to after the storms pass.

My kids are playing in the living room, and all is right in my world

I tweeted this earlier today:

The kids are pretending to give each other baths in the doll's bathtub. I love just to sit and listen to them!

I've been trying to clean the house today because my mother-in-law and sister-in-law will be visiting this weekend, so the kids have been playing on their own. Listening to them play together and talk to each other warms my heart, and I often stop whatever I'm doing--washing dishes, folding clothes, scrubbing crayon marks off the walls--and eavesdrop on them. If I have the camcorder handy, sometimes I'll lurk around the corner and try to record them before they notice me and stop doing whatever cute thing they happen to be doing. Other times, like today, I'll take pictures of my son "washing" my daughter's hair as she sits in a white plastic tub that is way too small for even her tiny, 22-month-old bottom.

These moments--these small moments of everyday life--are so precious. They are the moments that make me glad I'm a mother, glad that I've been given such a huge and awesome responsibility. Despite the many times when the scene isn't quite as  idyllic--when someone is screaming and someone else is crying for a diaper  change--I love my job. I love my life. My family is everything. And even though there are still so many things I want for myself in life--to be a published author is just one--my children are more important right now. They need me, and I'm learning every day just how much I need them too.

"Just wait until your father gets home!"

When I was a kid, my little sister tattled on me for playing doctor with the neighbor boy, and my angry mom said she was going to tell my dad. I remember screaming, "If you tell him, I'm running away," and I filled my backpack with several books and stomped out into the backyard, where I sat reading on the steps until dinnertime. Mom appeared in the doorway then and said she'd changed her mind and wouldn't tell, so I reluctantly went into the house for goulash. More than thirty years later, I still wonder if she ever told him.