Since the beginning of this year, I’ve been hard at work on a new novel. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever done before. I’ve learned a lot working on it, and have been having a fabulous time getting to know the characters. It started out as an image in my head that I got when driving home from grocery shopping one night. And eventually, that image turned into a story line that I decided to turn into a novel for Dad. For his birthday I gave him the first third of the book, soon after gave him the second part, and am nearly done with the final third portion now. The climax is yet to be written, and I’m getting a little jittery every time a paragraph gets me closer to the end. There’s such a feeling of importance, a serious excitement, when getting to the end of writing a book!
This new book contains a broken skylight, little action figures, dirt tunnels, a box of cereal, barbed wire, high-top sneakers, mountains, short fingernails, sore feet, a store with a weird name, paint ball guns, oil lamps, a calendar, cracked concrete steps, and crawfish.
And everybody dies in the end.