At first I titled this post Like Stepping Back in Time, then I backspaced the Like; today I totally felt as if years had melted away, in writing an entire chapter of The Hawk. But beyond the word count, another sensation loomed, that of authorial joy, wordy pleasure, novelistic thrill. These elements used to be commonplace when I sat at my computer. Lately they have seemed mostly absent.
But yesterday I noticed a giddy fictional exuberance that was wholly real, and it continued today, much to my blissful surprise. It was as if I dwelled in 2015, 2014, or 2013 when I first began writing this book. It’s turned into several sections, but started innocently enough. At times over the last two years I had to wonder if I might ever complete it. And while The End still eludes, my sense of purpose has returned. Talk about one happy grandma!
Ha ha, a grandma, really? Um yeah, dude…. When I became an abuela is when the amount of prose started to not suffer, but slightly decline. In today’s work, I needed to fact-check some previous sections, and while perusing those paragraphs, I recalled how easily those scenes had emerged. It was a different season in my life, one I recall fondly, but time is fleeting, this very day already well into the afternoon. Each moment is meant for this or that, like working on quilts or housecleaning, what I did yesterday. Occasionally it’s hard not to compare now with the past; better to embrace what is, and after today’s chapter, I am over the moon in celebrating the present.
Speaking of the moon, today’s photos are from autumn of 2013, when The Hawk burst into my brain, then onto a virtual document. While my husband still treks about his fave park, I rarely drive to Capitola, too busy with grandkids, sewing, and thankfully still writing. Ah writing, yes, such a blessing to again type with impunity. Tomorrow I’ll be hanging out with my grandgirls, but come Thursday, perhaps this wave of paragraphical happiness will rush over me. In the meantime, there’s a baby blanket in need of attention. I’ll ponder Eric, Stanford, Lynne, and Laurie as I rock the needle, quilting style….