Take us through your writing process. Do you keep a regular writing schedule? Do you write on your laptop or longhand? Do you have a favorite place to write? Are you most inspired in the morning, afternoon, evening, or middle of the night?
Ohhhhh. Emmmmmm. Geeeeee.
I wish I thought I even had a writing process… or even a writing schedule. I have a bunch of files in google docs, separated out into folders. Some have ideas, other have actual writing, some have pitiful versions of outlines. I write on my phone, my desktop and even a laptop.. ok, in the interest of full disclosure I haven’t written at all recently. That is exactly why I am here today, doing this blog challenge… though it is easy to do when you have prompts. I can write the answers to the prompts, getting myself to open one of my folders is another story. I don’t do it. I get to the point that I rarely even think about it except as I am drifting off to sleep.
OK… I will just do it!
So here, for your perusal are the first two paragraphs (which is all I can bear to share, mainly from shame, but I do have about 70 pages of this story down in all kinds of stages of development):
Clara was a very happy child, this is in spite of her parents disdain for each other as well as her brothers most innocent oblivion.
She and her family, and all the servants, lived in an old home whose walls were filled with the memories of all who had lived and loved there before. The memories were often made better by her mere presence in the house. It was amazing how hate or indifference seemed to shrink away in her vicinity. Couples arguing as they walked in front of the family home stopped arguing and would begin to giggle like young lovers, cars would slow down, and even the stray cats and dogs that roamed around her neighborhood would stop and rest against the walls enclosing her home; the cats purring, the dogs wagging their tails, and birds singing a lovely song.
Clara was conceived at the the apex of her parents love. He mother, Katarina, and father, Victor, must have entrusted all the love their bodies could posses to her, as they never seemed to like each other much after that one spectacular night in which Clara was conceived. As a result of their magnificent lovemaking, Clara was endowed with fawn eyes, a generous spirit, and the ability to nurture love with a glance or a delicate touch of her hand. When the midwife, Clotilde, pulled Clara’s small little body from her mother almost ten months later, she fell hopelessly in love with the beautiful baby and made a silent vow to Saint Raphael to help her protect this divine little girl. In later years Clotilde would say that angels sang when Clara was born.
I would appreciate any and all feedback!
Today the hat tip goes out to Ashley Howland. She writes books for children and they all look fascinating! (note to self, add to wishlist – check)