Sometimes I’m jarred out of my novel in progress enough to wonder where it all came from, this plot, these characters, this setting.It happened again this week. These are the sorts of questions that race through my head whenever it does:

How (and why) did this story weave together like this? Why did all these bits and pieces of my soul and interests and research and echoes of the past 40-almost years of reading come together to create this story world filled with these characters that so trouble and delight and challenge me?

Even though I work hard at this story-weaving/writing thing almost daily, adding to the novel in progress piece by (mostly) deliberate piece, there’s still something mysterious and wonder-filled about the process and I really hope I never figure it out.



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