It
starts with a spark of creativity, a tiny seed of an idea that begins to take
root and grow in a writer’s brain. At first, it’s easy to ignore the tender
little seedling trying to find purchase in a place already teeming with ideas.
Those initial ideas definitely get overshadowed by projects that have already
made it from brain to keyboard (or yellow pad or sketchbook, in my case). I can
pretty much guarantee that the majority of working writers have at least a
dozen ideas growing in addition to the three or four projects they’re working
on. I do.
Take
this post, for instance. The initial idea formed about a month ago. In that
time, I have jotted notes for the next blog post (and the one after that),
finished and submitted three poems for publication, revised and submitted an
essay for publication, worked my tail off to format a book for publication
(more on that in the next post), and written countless journal pages. That’s
just the physical work I’ve put in. The extra ideas that haven’t been harvested
yet? They’re still growing in my brain. Some of them are really getting out of
control in there….
It
still amazes me to think how my published books came into being. In the 1970’s,
I was teaching Lamaze childbirth classes, and my students felt the available
books were too technical. I was freelancing at the time, miraculously getting
published on a regular basis, and they suggested I write a book with all the
information I dispensed in class, posed in less clinical terms than others had
used. I gave it some thought (and growth time), and two years later my first
book was published.
When
I began researching, at my mother’s request, the alleged crimes of her
grandmother, I knew eventually I had enough material for a pretty compelling
memoir. Many years later (when Mom would finally allow it), The Tainted Legacy of Bertha Gifford came into fruition.
The Dogs Who Saved Me came about during a long summer afternoon spent
organizing photographs. I had so many pictures of the various dogs I have
companioned with, I realized there were enough to make an album of just dogs
alone, and as I leafed through the finished project, considering all their
incredible stories, I knew I wanted to record them. That book took two years to
write.
This
next book—the one that I am just weeks away from seeing released on Amazon—did
not begin as a book idea or even a writing project. It began as a song. No. It
began with a cat that looked like a dragon. Or more accurately, a dragon that
looked like a cat. Here is that story:
When
I moved waaaay up to a cabin in the mountains, I took two black cats with me:
Old guy Boo Radley and newly adopted Sugar Plum (aka “Sug”). Sadly, in my
second year on the mountain, Boo died. Where Sug had previously bonded with
Boo, now she began to bond with me in earnest. And it was cold in the winter
months, so she would come to the loft at night, jump on the bed, and I would
hold the blanket up for her to climb under and snuggle down. Often, in the
depth of darkness and quiet only a mountain retreat can offer, I would sing to
her. In the beginning, I sang her “Too Ra Loo Ra Loo Ral” and other sweet Irish
songs I had learned as a child.
Then
several things happened in succession. My dear friend and fellow author Michael
Welker (Blockbuster Blueprint) suggested I watch the animated feature
How to Train Your Dragon, mostly because he thought I’d love the soundtrack,
which I did. (Loved the film, too; ya gotta love a rescued
critter/underdog/unlikely love story/unlikely hero movie.) Sometime in the
ensuing days, I walked into the main room of the cabin to find little Sug face
to face at the French doors with an enormous black bear. Sug was standing her
ground, back arched, fur and tail puffed to maximum bigness, and hissing as she
bared her teeth. She looked, in that moment, for all the world like a tiny
dragon. Later that night, as we hunkered down in bed, I began to hum a random
tune I’d come up with. Suddenly there were words for it:
Dragon
song is an old one
Sing
the tale told so long
Dragon song is an old one
Old one, sing the dragon song.
At
some point before this, I had attended a writers group meeting in which the
guest speaker had noted, in suggesting ways to market one’s books, that the
creation of a series (rather than a stand-alone novel) brings readers back
looking for the next chapter in the saga. I had dismissed the idea at first.
(Writing a series—keeping every detail of every character and plot point clear
and correct throughout all the books—is much more challenging than writing a
single, all-encompassing story.)
But
that night, singing this new song to my tiny cat who apparently had the spirit
of a dragon abiding within her, a seed was planted.
Hard
to believe that seed began to take root over a decade ago. Well, the original
idea became a book. (More on how that happened in the next post.)
Originally, I had decided just three books—a compact trilogy—would do nicely.
(No way would I attempt an on-going series, given all the other projects I want
to tackle.) But as I worked on the second book, I realized that the four
seasons had become a theme, so that now there are four books in what will be,
when they are published, the Dragon Singer series. The books are written
for a middle-grade audience. Which means, I suppose, that any avid reader over
the age of say, eight, who loves cats and good dogs and dragons and music will
probably enjoy them.
Did
I mention that the first one is nearly ready for release in a matter of weeks,
if not days? Watch this space!
No comments:
Post a Comment