I just finished the end of my book. It's beautiful. It made me cry. The story isn't even close to finished but I know the story and the ending came to me so I needed to write it down. The poem from the last post is inspired by the story I'm writing and reflective of the love I'm writing about there.
It's a love story of course. I could write no other kind. But it's more than that, it's about two characters who grow and learn through love and life and loss. There are a lot of chapters to write, a lot of layers to add, and it'll be another year before it is ready for others to read. But it's coming along again and if I can get the story on paper I am confident, with time, it will get done.
And it has a name. I think. I have trouble staying in love with the names I choose for books. It's like trying to choose a tattoo. I've always wanted one but I'm not particularly impulsive and it's a pretty permanent thing. So I get a cool idea but I let it simmer and in several months, sure enough, it's lame and stupid and my life has changed sufficiently that it no longer suits. So no tattoos on me.
But this book will be named, though the name will remain a secret until I'm sure it's the right one. The story is unfolding a little differently than I originally planned and my characters are taking me on an interesting journey with them.
Thanks from coming along for the ride.
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