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Tuesday, April 1, 2008

nobody scores from the bench...

Sorry about the late post, my best intentions were trumped by my call to duty as Fia & Eli's Granddad...:P

So, where were we? Oh yes, chapter one is in the can, now what! Well, actually chapter one went on a tour of family and close friends while I shamelessly basked in praise and self gratification. How long you ask...about 6 weeks. Yeah, that's right, I said six weeks! Why so long you add? Well, its sort of like after you finish a really terrific holiday meal, like Thanksgiving and such. You're full, stuffed actually, and you're thinking (out loud probably), "I'm never eating again!" In other words, you could say that I got lazy, set the bar too low and contented myself with what I had written so far. A really good short story.
Then came the evening when I had surfed EVERY channel my cable company offered. The Yankees weren't playing and football season was months away. So, bored, I wandered back to my bedroom/office and flipped on my computer. I sat and stared at my crashing surf screen saver for about twenty minutes before I clicked on my "Migrant" folder and opened the only file in there, "chapter one." I read it again, with a fresh pair of eyes and a little too much pride. Then I read it again. And while I was going through it a third time I put in my earphones and queued up the soundtrack from "Amelie."
Almost instantly my mind began to wander, and I found myself daydreaming about a road trip I had taken through New England in the Fall of 1996. I had been on a business trip to upstate New York and had taken the opportunity to visit the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown. The beautiful countryside and small town atmosphere left a real impression on me, more than I had realized. The kind of impression that can transport you back in time whenever you're able to conjure up those memories. The brilliant autumn colors, the small town chatter overheard in diners and on street corners, the unfamiliar yet totally recognizable surroundings, and the overwhelming feeling of belonging.
Somewhere in the middle of that dream with the soft sounds of that French soundtrack in my head, Ethan Kelly, his family & friends, and his complete back story were born. Twelve hours later the next three chapters had been written. the framework for "The Migrant" had been laid down, and I was on my way to authorhood!

next post...picking them up and laying them down

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