The muse never sleeps

I was reminded of this a few days ago when, out of nowhere, I thought of a slight tweak to a chapter that strengthens the plot of the novel I'm working on right now.

Mind you, it wasn't even something I was consciously pondering - yet I recognized right away it made the story better.

It's a reminder that, if you're working on a book --- or simply thinking about writing one --- to let the muse have plenty of space to roam.

Keep a notebook nearby - or a digital voice recorder if that is more your style. Then log those tidbits so they're readily at hand.

You'll be thankful for that later.

40,000

I've reached 40,000 words in my next novel, tentatively titled SHATTERED RHYMES.

I like where the story is going and how we've arrived there. Pecking away at the keys as part of NaNoWriMo, it's like getting to know old friends again.

No, not all 40,000 words have been written in four days. I pretty much shelved the book for the last 7 months or so, after we learned of my mother's cancer diagnosis and her eventual passing in early June.

The muse shut down, just as it did 14 years ago after learning of my youngest sister's diagnosis of breast cancer. Fortunately, she was able to beat it and is doing very well now.

And, fortunately, the muse was merely on hiatus, as SHATTERED RHYMES has shown. It's a very different book than FALLEN TREES, but like FT it's a story that wouldn't let me alone. Once the idea sprouted, the muse kept tugging at me with more and more details until I realized I had to do something with it. I have no word count goal or timetable for completion, but I've got to keep going until it's done.

And then the hard work begins, as any writer will tell you: honing the drafts until it's tight and gleaming. If the reaction to FALLEN TREES has taught me anything, it's to trust my instincts.

Where did FALLEN TREES come from?

It's natural for some readers of FALLEN TREES to believe the novel is semi-autobiographical, since I was born and raised on a farm in central Kansas and the main character in the book was as well.

But I'm not kidding when I tell people that assumption simply isn't accurate. Any time I tried to inject myself or someone I knew into the story, the muse would simply shut down. I had to 'back away' and stop trying to direct the story or it wouldn't resume.

I've wanted to write novels ever since I was a child and became entranced by the Hardy Boys and Trixie Belden and Encyclopedia Brown and Nancy Drew. I loved how readers could get to know the characters in these stories and then get to learn more in new installments in the series.

I even created my own 'series' --- short mysteries featuring Billy and Joann, siblings in a small town who couldn't resist trying to solve mysteries that they stumbled upon. Mom saved a couple of them and I read one a few months ago. I was impressed with the organization and plotting in stories written when I was maybe 10 years old.

But several attempts to start a novel when I reached adulthood simply went nowhere. I had to resign myself to the reality that the muse would let me know when the time was right...when I would be ready.

That time came when I was driving back to Wichita following some time at the farm, and I saw a grove of trees that had been cut down next to the highway. This grove was so substantial it served as something of an area landmark ---- you knew where you were when you saw them. It struck me how much the landscape changed when those trees were cut down.

And then the muse began to work: What if you had a character coming home to this abrupt change? A story began to unspool before me. By the time I got home I had a couple of chapters already written in my mind. For a while, I tried to figure out the rest of the book before I began writing, but it never seemed smooth in my mind.

Instead, those two chapters ---- eventually a third came into focus ---- nagged at me so much that I simply wrote them to get them onto paper, so to speak. As I wrote, another chapter emerged, then another. I never knew more than a chapter or two ahead what was going to happen in the book. It drove me crazy for a while, but I eventually learned to trust the process.

I've told friends and family that I felt like a stenographer for this book ---- the muse was writing it and I was simply typing it. There were times when I'd be writing and I'd be so tired I would close my eyes and lean my head against the wall in my cozy dining area ---- and my fingers would still be typing away on the story.

There were times when I would think, "What does this have to do with anything?" Then, several chapters later, its value was made clear. "How the heck did that happen?" I asked myself. But it was part of the journey toward trusting the muse.

I have said many times that even if FALLEN TREES never saw the light of day as a published book it was still valuable because when the opportunity came to write INTO THE DEEP with Robert Rogers in 2005 about the tragic death of his family in a flash flood on the Kansas Turnpike, I didn't flinch. The idea of writing a book didn't intimidate me because I'd already done that.

Writing nonfiction is entirely different than writing fiction, but I still knew how to execute the project. Now that FALLEN TREES has been published and has been getting such strong responses, I am gratified that so many people are enjoying it.

I have some unusual and powerful experiences to share from the writing of FALLEN TREES, but I'll save those for the future.