It all began with a question. What sort of story would I write for Alder if I could? The promise of magic, but not like Harry Potter, was made. Over time there were other small things asked for like jumping out of a second floor window, and a coffee shop. There were months and months of characters being formed in loose handwritten pages, back stories no one else will ever read. For a long time there was no plot, just a boy with interesting friends and relatives. As they evolved hints of what they wanted to do became clear.
Still there was no commitment, just a vague notion that I had made a promise to the boy. Until one day a good friend asked what I was writing, The sort of friend who has always pushed me to do more, and inspired me. I told him about the notebook with characters and about the promise. There was that familiar look in his eyes, the one that made me say “and I’m going to start writing it next week.” It came not just from the moment or from the notebook, but mainly from frustration that so few books seemed to represent my son. I needed to make a world of fantasy that reflected him and our lives. I needed to hand him something that he could get lost in.
I’ll be honest the timing was great as well. Job searching is a tedious process staring at the same ads everyday does nothing for ones ego. So I divided my time. I put in what I could in the world of applications then turned my attention to the world Elan lives in. It had been a long time since I wrote fiction and at first there were just a few hundred a day. But the familiar feeling of inhabiting the world I was creating soon took over, the words formed faster and started to fill pages rather than just inches. Until I got here 139 pages in and needing to clean up the beginning and middle before I create the end.
There is so much work left before Alder will hold a copy of this in his hands, but just now it feels so good to have it all printed out and ready for the rewrite.