So, last week, I posted on the noises in my head and how I’ve been having issues focusing, you all remember that, right?
Well, I had a lightbulb go off a couple of days later. Seriously.
An idea for a fantasy series had been growing in my mind for some time. At first, I liked the idea (no, I’m not telling you what it is!), but that was it–it was just an idea that might be fun to explore one day. The last couple of weeks though, I started seeing pictures in my head and hearing the characters arguing.
A couple of nights after I posted about the level of noise, I had a dream about the final battle. That’s when I knew that this series–this story–would be next on my list.
So, I convinced my husband to sit and listen to me rattle on for an hour or so. We brainstormed together (he’s one of my favorite idea guys, but he doesn’t often like to listen to me go on and on…and on), and the story began to evolve in my head.
The idea took on a life of its own. I mean, the story I’m writing now is a new creature, even from the original idea. But there’s all this exciting stuff and it’s all flowing so well and I’m just so thrilled! Can you tell?
Still, though, when it gets quiet and I’m staring at the inky darkness before I fall asleep, I wonder.
See, I’m not a big fantasy reader. I mean, I love fantasy–I’ll watch about anything fantasy-wise that comes out in the theatre. But I’ve always had a hard time READING fantasy. For instance, Lord of the Rings definitely ranks among my top 5 movies of all time, but I’ve not made it past page 10 in the first book. I have read a couple of fantasy books, but none of the big names.
Am I really cut out to WRITE fantasy? When I was younger, all the stories I wrote were fantasy. Then I went to high school where poetry took over for the most part, and in college all I wrote were assignments for class. I got married, had my first child, and only then did I accept the call to be a writer. My first three novels had very little to do with anything “speculative”. My third novel–the one I’ve spent the last two years on, is a supernatural suspense. I attempted another supernatural suspense during NaNo, but dried out on the story after the first 10 days.
And then–nothing–nothing but those voices and the pulling and the contemplating. What kind of writer am I? So, naturally, I pull a fantasy out of my hat. Naturally? Go figure.
So, who, besides God Almighty, knows how this experiment will go. I’m not going to argue. When the inspiration hits, and you feel the pull, can you really argue? I just sit down in my seat, bow my head and the Lord to lead my fingers, to breathe passion and truth into every word, every sentence, every chapter, until there is a story like none other out there. A story that will inspire, offer hope, change lives.
Or perhaps be stuck in limbo for several years before being regulated to the back of the closet with novels 1, 2, and 3. I prefer the first option.