Something New

I start writing my next novel on a Wednesday in early January. It is a story that has been in my head for almost two years, a story that I have mapped and outlined, a story that already has an ending.

In many ways it feels like I am returning to my true self. It has been too long since I have been in the daily routine of writing. I welcome the comfy socks and warm blanket, iPad on my lap, notes next to me.

I do not often feel rejuvenated when the calendar turns to a new year. January is not a time for rebirth, it is a time to tuck oneself away and rest. But this year I am energized by the cold winds that keep me inside, keep me writing something new.

Despite my outline and notes I know there will be surprises as I make my way through this novel. It is a story that I don’t completely understand yet. It will be with me these winter days and will continue when the flowers bloom in the spring. Maybe the first draft will be done by the time the newly planted bulbs fill my garden with color. Maybe I will hit my word count goal by the time the dahlias are in full bloom this fall, although I doubt it. This is something that cannot be rushed, a puzzle that I piece together one word at a time.

My words are always rough in the beginning, clunky and sparse with little detail. But as I write draft after draft after draft, it will take shape; little words that stretch and grow, a story that will someday be in full bloom.