Ah, what could be more charming than a first crush? Not much. How may of us would love to revisit age 13 again? Probably lots of us. So today was a fab writing morning. 2364 words to be exact. Total is now 12,313. Two things have changed for me as a writer during this process of NaNoWriMo. One is respect — complete respect for published authors like the ones in this article — some of them are my faves anyway and now that I saw them talk about how they come up with the words? Well. What occurs to me is that some of us are full of words and we probably always were — even when we were little. In fact? Maybe the words on the page are the only way we can speak about some things?
Certainly, when I was writing love poems, I knew that. Some of us burn our words down, sometimes? That is how much they mean.
And there is something else too — a book is a really important thing. When I think about the books I read in childhood — and sometimes escaped into? Well — what if I were making something like that for other kids? What if I were making something really important that would be left as a legacy of my life in a way? Hmmm…..
Most serious published authors must feel that way I expect, as well. That is what the cavern is about for us writers. I think so — that cavern being the place that we somehow manage to be like the scribes that always existed — since the beginning of time.
Well, enough of that — it was a good day today — my characters have just communicated… here is a snippet from today:
And so he began, a little like this:
I am Devlin,
boy of the dunes and boy of the air who left you the magic feather and you are the sad girl that I saw crying.
Then he sat looking at what he had just written to her. He wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have told her that he’d seen her like that. But it was too late. He’d already written it down, and besides, if he wanted to have a relationship with a real girl like she seemed to be, he thought he’d better just tell her the truth. So, he continued.
I am the boy who built this driftwood shelter
I am fourteen years old and my mom died
and so this summer my dad left me here with my grandparents,
do you want to be friends?
The words had just poured out of him from someplace and he wasn’t even sure where. But that feeling of tightness in his chest had lessened while he wrote. He let out a giant sigh. There was no going back now. None at all. He decided that was enough to say for his first answer. He’d wait and see what she was going to say back.
Devlin stuffed her paper airplane in his pocket, and left his note folded inside the abalone shell — weighting it down with a rock, like she had. It was time to go home and have dinner, and besides what had happened seemed so magical to him that he didn’t want to break the spell by staying too long in the hut.
I’m writing this in two ways — one of those is as a therapist, in a way — and that is the really fun part, because, well, I sort of miss doing that work and so this novel is what I said I was going to be doing. Putting all my “work” into something that hopefully eventually could be a screenplay — so this is serious stuff, for me. Really serious. My main characters, the boy and the girl are both grappling with loss — and this friendship they form is going to be very important to both of them.
Ah, the cavern. It’s made of so many different things for each writer. It really is!
Loving the writing this morning is going to help me tackle the parts that will be harder?
I have nothing but gratitude for NaNoWriMo in my heart — what an opportunity it is to be among my fellows as a writer!
ps: I love the tweets too! They are the greatest!
What Teenie Alexander did was to leave Devlin a second note — it was a paper airplane this time — and the passage above is the note he left her back! It looked a bit like this one!