At least, that’s what writing has felt like lately. A story, moving along at a good pace, surprises left and right. I’m working on Dustman (working title) right now, which is a peripheral novel in the Aldersgate Cycle; that is, it takes place in the same world, and has a few cameos from some familiar characters, but isn’t part of the main bulk. The story is much more intimate, in a way, as it has to do with three characters only, who switch POVs throughout the story. The Aldersgate had a much bigger scope–you know, kingdoms at stake and all of that. In this case, though war is raging, it’s the personal stories that are really center of this book.
With the hands in better shape than they’ve been in months, and spring blooming all around me, it’s been quite exhilarating. I’m having those novel moments where I’m just bombarded with scenes and dialogue in the middle of completely mundane tasks. It’s like having a foot in each world, and I love it. It’s been quite some time since this has happened, mostly due to life’s unforeseen complications.
But, starting anew. It’s good. It’s refreshing.
It’s a relief.