The Writing


A novel is a massive undertaking. It takes time to nurture, like a child. It evolves from the ether, the mist of imagination. It is demanding. If the proper time is taken in creation, it results in even more editing and consideration. Each character reveals itself in new forms without the slightest provocation.

The joy in writing something from what was once nothing is indescribable. Passion outplays planning. Characters act in ways the writer must adapt to, rather than simply react. There is no cadence in pure creativity. It must be tamed, but always allowed to roam.

There is no timetable here. I have to read what was written in what can only be described as a trance. It must be felt, then allowed to expand. Once the first draft is done, it will undergo massive transformations. Situations which unfold from nothing require the utmost focus to become sharp. Characters must adapt to what is to come.

Charlemagne, a name wholly derived from another favorite Steely Dan tune. Deke you already know. Thomas is the dad I always hoped to be while failing to understand. Terry? A totally unknown phenomenon wholly created from years of reading Stephen King novels while imagining folklore of old.

Portland has always been fractious. It allures the dreams of all who live here. We imagine Sasquatch but never see him. This novel not only involves him, but describes his extended family. This story will awaken every emotion. It tackles many social ills without providing answers.

Terry the Terrible Troll will perplex, annoy and amuse you in ways you might be embarrassed to admit.

Stay tuned. Magic is happening at this keyboard.

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