Lately I’ve been revisiting old friends, prose-style. While The Hawk waits patiently, I’ve been reading some of my Alvin’s Farm books, novels I haven’t looked at in ages. They were written over six years ago, some of the first I published independently. What has surprised me most is how enjoyable they have been, not that they are perfect, but certainly some of my favourites. And to my (great) relief, I’m rekindling a desire to write, which has been absent for…. A while now, why The Hawk languishes. Perhaps I’ve needed this time away to remind myself why I started writing in the first place.
Not merely because I had a lot to say, but I have my own special way of saying it.
One blessing of indie publishing has been the freedom to tell my stories exactly as I wish to present them. They aren’t shoehorned into this or that genre, no branding within this author’s realm. Releasing The Hawk in serial form has been quite a thrill, although the conclusion has been breathing down my neck for a few months, and yet here I am, nearly at the end of book four in Alvin’s Farm, when I could be revising The Hawk part 7 or 8, I can’t even recall now. Where am I in The Hawk?
Fortunately, I think I’m right where I’m supposed to be, in the latter third of The Farm at Sam and Jenny’s, just as Tommie gives it to Jenny with both barrels that she should try pot to ease her aches. For, in reading that dialogue, I’m reminded of an inner delight to just tell the story, regardless of how long it might take. The conclusion of The Hawk is probably going to be much lengthier than the previous sections, and that fact has sat in my mind, also weighed on my heart. But so what? There’s no editor hanging over my shoulder, pointing out that incongruity within the series, no publisher staring at a timepiece, tapping their foot, arms crossed stiffly over their chest. This is my party, these are my novels, this is my path as a writer. And what a blessing that is!
I don’t know when I’ll revisit The Hawk Part 12, but when I do, I hope I remember Tommie’s passion, trying to convince Jenny to use an alternative remedy. There’s more than one way to write a book, and here I go, in a somewhat circuitous manner. The Hawk might be taking its sweet time, but that’s not necessarily a bad way to progress….