The mind of an author

Photo courtesy of Pixabay

Ever have a dream you hope you’ll remember in the morning? I had one last night. I woke up amazed at the incredibly vivid sensory details. Before going back to sleep, I thought about what I saw, heard and felt in the dream to try to cement it into my memory so I could recall it in the morning. Gladly, I did remember.

Most of you know I am searching for the right agent for my first completed novel, The Lighthouse Legacy. While I’m doing that, I’m also working through ideas and writing scenes for a new book. Apparently my mind was working on my new book in my sleep. Will the details from my dream make it into the final book? Who knows for sure, but even if they don’t, the dream got me to creatively think in a different way about the developing story.

Most writers will tell you that we can’t wait for inspiration. We have to sit our butts in a chair, write, and find the inspiration. But I sometimes find that trying to force inspiration can mean writing a lot of empty words or going in the wrong direction. Then I have to work backwards and kill my darlings (Stephen King’s writing advice). But even that process moves me forward. It tells me what my story is not. It tells me the characters are whispering in my ear, but I’m not hearing it right. Not yet. Sometimes it means putting the idea on hold to let my subconscious work on it. Then, out of the blue, a breakthrough comes to me. But while I’m waiting, I’m not wasting time. I’m doing things to help my mind find that breakthrough. I’m researching the topic. I’m reading books in my genre or articles on writing and the publishing world. I’m writing my blog. I’m looking for new ideas. I’m adding to a story in progress. I’m sitting quietly, thinking, daydreaming about my characters and the stories they want to tell.

I started work on a sequel to The Lighthouse Legacy. Both stories take place in the quaint coastal (fictional) town of Port Morgan, a town readers would enjoy visiting over and over again. It’s like Robin Carr’s town of Virgin River (only on the Carolina coast) crossed with a Mary Kay Andrews beach read. I’ve made progress in this sequel, but I sometimes stories are just not ready to reveal themselves yet. Or maybe it’s me holding it back. It’s hard to put so much time and effort into a sequel when I haven’t found an agent for the first one – yet. Who knows if there will even be any interest in a sequel?

And then one night while watching tv, a new idea hit me. The Netflix show (I won’t mention here) included this family structure that I thought felt familiar. I recognized similarities to a book series I had read. My mind began analyzing what made this structure work. Then I began considering other elements the two had in common that work. It was a great sign that these elements didn’t feel overused and tired yet, but I needed a new angle, my own angle. Something fresh. Next thing I knew, I had a whole storyline (basic at this point, of course) in my head. I shared it with my husband to get his reaction. He gave me one of those looks I don’t see often when I can tell he’s amazed. He knows I’m creative, but it sometimes takes him by surprise. He said, “When did you come up with that?” I explained how the pieces came together, but the funny thing is, at first I wasn’t even aware my mind was working on it. He loved the idea and was excited to talk it out with me to help me flesh it out. Now I’m researching, working on the plot, writing some scenes that I can visualize (I’ll figure out where they go later), and trying to determine the point of view. I have the character names and their background. I’m beginning to know who they are. Now I need them to tell me their story. That’s where my dream from last night comes in. It’s a critical point in the story. My characters have started speaking to me.

Meanwhile, I wouldn’t say the other book (the sequel) is on hold exactly. I’m just letting my subconscious work on it for awhile. When something amazing comes forward in my brain, I’m open to go with it. Or if I find that perfect agent for The Lighthouse Legacy who is interested in a sequel, let me tell you how inspiration can come out of necessity!

The mind of an author is always processing, imagining, creating, pondering, dreaming. So much is going on in our minds while we fit the pieces to our puzzle together. The story sometimes pours out and other times it trickles. Then hours of editing and proofreading come next. Why do I do it? The joy!  The process of creation brings me joy. And hope! It’s that desire to share my creativity with readers, to bring them joy in their lives.

So I keep dreaming and writing. And the search for a literary agent continues.  During this pandemic, I hope you can find that something that brings joy to your life. Sometimes it’s just a matter of perspective. The things that bring joy may be standing right in front of you just waiting to be recognized.

 

Childhood Career Dreams

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up? Was your dream to be a fire fighter, a doctor, a teacher? Did you want to build things, be your own boss, or save the environment?

I still chuckle when I remember my daughter’s preschool graduation. This group of 5 and 6-year-olds were asked what they wanted to do when they grew up.  After a lot of fireman, policeman, and doctor responses, my daughter’s quick, unrehearsed response was, “I want to be a paleontologist.”  The audience cracked up. When the teacher asked her what that meant, she knew. How does a 6 year old know what a paleontologist is?! Or even know how to pronounce that?! Over time her ambitions changed. In her teens she found her passion for martial arts. By age 21 she opened her own taekwondo school. She now has her fifth degree black belt and a very successful business. 

At one point in my childhood I wanted to be an archaeologist. I love history, especially ancient history. The idea of being in an exotic place digging in ruins looking for lost artifacts sounded exciting and fulfilling. I wanted to brush dirt and sand away to uncover pottery or bones that haven’t seen the light of day for centuries.  It seemed like an intellectual puzzle. I wanted to do the research to determine where to dig. Then, discovering pieces of the past would be the prize for persistence. These discoveries from an ancient civilization would also bring wonder – of who these people were and how they lived.

Petra, Jordan – Photo by Reiseuhu on Unsplash

In my teens, I thought about the reality of living and working on site as an archaeologist.  Ruins in a place like Egypt would mean dusty, hot, sweaty work with no running water but plenty of scorpions. Ruins in the rain forest would be hot, humid, sweaty work with no running water but plenty of snakes.  This job would probably include living in a tent for months (or maybe even years). Keep in mind this was all before the Indiana Jones movies romanticized the whole field. Archaeology didn’t seem so wonderful to me anymore. And I realized that I wanted to have a family someday and this career didn’t seem conducive to family life.

I also toyed with the idea of becoming a writer. I could write about exotic places and research any topic I had interest in. I could write about the distant past, the possibilities of the future or anywhere in between. I could teach others about real people and places or help them escape into a world I totally made up. But I feared writing wasn’t a stable enough career to help support my future family. Would I be able to sell books or articles consistently enough to bring in a regular paycheck?

With my love of reading and writing, I decided to become an English teacher. I got paid to study and teach wonderful literature and hone my craft in writing while coaching others to write better.  I had the privilege of working with junior high and high school students and watching them mature. I had the joy of seeing those “ah-ha” moments when the light bulb went on for them. And I loved challenging myself, including when I took on rebuilding a video production program at the high school. But the idea of becoming a professional writer was always at the back of my mind. I loved so many aspects of my thirty year teaching career, but retirement meant an opportunity to finally pursue my dream of being a writer.

So what did you want to be when you were a kid? What did you end up doing?  Do you have other career dreams and goals you still work on during your free time or hope to get back to some day? Please share!