It’s March. February slipped through somewhere. January, too. And I’d promised myself posts every two week.
I began to write a short novel (16000 words) on December 10, and gave myself two months to do it, 2 pages a day. But had a two-week-long task in January. The novel took two months and ten days to complete. It was born first as a picturebook…come to think of it, it was scratched out by hand, rough draft–very drafty–sitting in a chair outside the hotel room in Kelowna, with the smoke from the Glenrosa fire still thick in the air, morning after. I knew my son was safe, finally, and my other family members. (See post re: Glenrosa/July.) So already, there’s a recursive loop in my blogging. Yeah! A loop. We write to make loops, to try to catch things that are uncatchable. Or that run away from us.
I haven’t done as much writing before now as I have in this past year. A third of a novel through the fall (can’t wait to get back to it, though the subject matter frightens me), a re-write of another novel (now awaiting word…), this short novel, and now, a chapter book for Tradewinds…which just might be the first “funny” thing I’ve written. I’m having fun writing it, at least. Humour is a fingerprint, though. A bit slippery, too.