A great feeling is returning to the written work, seven hundred words on Monday, a chapter’s completion today. I had left myself with quite a conundrum, as Klaudia has learned about Eric’s affliction, and I don’t merely mean his crippled arm. How in the world I was going to address her reaction had been set aside until this week, but I think I managed a fitting segue into what happens next, and now to just keep adding to the story, one half or third or quarter chapter at a time.
It’s like a rose; layers of petals unfold to the center that holds the sweetest scent. It’s like how Roxy Music ended their 2001 concerts with “For Your Pleasure”, each performer taking a bow, leaving only the pianist as the arrangement became more sparse, although that seems a backwards manner in which to describe a novel’s conclusion, but this book is so long that only a few loose threads remain. What Klaudia has learned seems unbelievable, but Lynne proffered a way to absorb that truth in a manner that only mothers could share. Of course, Klaudia doesn’t simply accept Lynne’s reasoning, not only for the sake of continuity. There are still other issues I need to wrap up; Klaudia and Marek are a part of Eric’s story, but now that I’ve tackled one twist, the rest are just a matter of time.
Time to write is the key, but this abuela will squeeze in prose however it falls. Miss Em’s baptism was a splendid affair, and her big sister is talking up a storm. I’m hoping to spend some days with The Burrito in March, then we’ll be away for Easter, and the rest of April is abuzz with guests and trips away. But I’m feeling very centered regardless of interruptions; reading over old novels affirms my love for spinning a yarn, as well as reminding me how far I have come in that endeavor. Another idea sits on the horizon, again spurring me to complete The Hawk so I can dive head-first into another realm. When I began writing, I was grateful my kids were nearly done with high school, time an abundant element. The nietos won’t be tiny forever, and I relish being a part of their lives. All these pieces of my existence are getting along, it’s just a matter of embracing how they coalesce for the greater good.
This is what I need to remember when scenes are balky or I’m weary, or a baby won’t nap; there is a time for all things. Tucked away in my back pocket are words, also keys to other doors. If one doesn’t fit, try another. Eventually the correct path appears, taken one step at a time.