And It Is Done

I liken the writing of any story, be it a full length novel to the 4 lined haiku, as a birth of sorts.

Each comes on in a rush of excitement ( for most, anyway... sometimes they're complete surprises, or not always wanted!) but settles into a rhythm soon enough. But it's never the same rhythm as before. Somehow, it's changed. It's still you producing the work, still your mind and your heart in complete focus with the words. But they don't travel the same path as past ones.

Oh, they may seem so to an outsider... you look just as you always do - fingers to keyboard - or- pen to paper, but it's really not the same at all, is it?

Not for me. This baby took his time. Coming on most days in spurts of two or three pages, with an occasional 5 pager, or illustration just to shake things up. He knew which way to go, like most of my work in the world, it was developed into notes and outlines that I had scattered about my mind and desk (love me some blue post-its!) But he was nothing like his brothers before him, who came in huge chunks of determination and mind blowing word counts (no kidding, some 10,000 word days there)

But arrived he has. And like a birth, Fighting Resistance has filled my heart with joy, and my eyes with tears upon delivery.

He's 140 pages as a first draft, my shortest by far. But those pages are filled to the gills. Magic drips from all corners, making me laugh just thinking about how many sneaky little times it surprised even ME along the way.

So now I go to celebrate, and share my baby with it's family.

Happy Birthday, FR. I hope all the Best things for you. :)