There are stories down inside of me. Characters that are almost like friends. Their tales have been acted out, told aloud, dreamed about, and cursed at. There is the group of friends who stumble upon the old magician, and are given wild and fanciful powers. There is the failed archeologist who kidnaps his children on one last hurrah to prove to the world (and himself) that he is able. There is the little boy and the bird that breaks his heart unto death. And all the stories hold one thing in common… they have never been given life.
I have dreamed about breathing the breath of life and giving them a living soul. My own children would love to read of the foolish superheroes that were born in our backyard. I wonder if the young romantics might find their own voice in the love of a boy and his bird. But I have never made time for them. Never put pen to paper and then raised up pencil to strike words from the page.
So, the time has come. For 6 years I have been working on a novel. It was written during the first months of my daughters life. I would stay up late with her sleeping soundly, waiting for her to awaken and demanding sustenance, and just write. The words poured out of me. And for six years I have slowly edited this work. And now the time has finally come. The time to let the world read the story, to let these characters out into the world to shake some hands and shake some heads.
I am more than excited to see this story come into people’s hands. It is called “Three Cities”. Angie says it is “too church for the street, and too street for the church.” I guess that is the story of my life. In the next few weeks, I will be updating you on the novel and it’s progress into the world of print. Thank you to everyone who has encouraged me as a writer by reading this blog, by sending words of encouragement, by being a part of my story.
With much excitement,