In writing, moments arise when an author prepares to knock over a wall, or build a wall, or build a bridge. There are times when lives end, identities are altered, and hurdles overcome. Plot points are different than plot twists, but just as essential in the storytelling.
I’ve been telling this story for a long time, and perhaps that’s why, as I sit on the precipice of the crux of The Hawk, I need to quickly reflect upon the significance of what is about to occur. Prior to this novel, I could churn out a rough draft in a matter of weeks, four weeks usually, a NANOWRIMO style that served me well. But maybe in cranking out those drafts, I missed those previous times that right now I cannot simply throw aside. What happens next in this novel has been over four years in the making. And it means a lot to me.
I won’t give anything away, other than to note how in life there are events which upon reflection change us irrevocably. As a writer, I get to craft those cataclysmic occurrences, but it’s merely fiction, all from my head. Yet I draw on personal experience, as well as harvesting all I have seen around me. It’s like making a most delicious soup, and it’s almost done, and I’m about to spoon up a bite to make sure it’s truly as good as it smells. And once I’ve tasted it, it will be time to dole it out for others to enjoy. Or maybe it’s just a little like that, I don’t know. All I know is that since October of 2013, this chapter has been waiting for me. I didn’t know its exact number, and that’s for the best; if you’d told me it would be 263, I might not have reached this point, ha ha! Yet it’s right around the corner from this blog post, waiting for me.
A writer’s life is usually quiet, kind of invisible. But here’s a virtual drum roll, as from a stone’s throw away a novel’s conclusion waves at me. And off I go…..