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seedlingsA new novel is forming in my mind.

This is one of my favorite parts of writing: when a new idea comes. What was not there a moment before comes like a flash. Discovery is always a delightful shock: why did I not think of this idea before? It’s so obvious now. It feels warm, good, right.?The new idea takes hold, and begins to grow. It feels as though I can see what is happening inside my conscious, like watching a seed grow beneath the ground. To develop that seed is where the fun comes in.

What if? I ask. This? Or that? Perhaps. Because. Sheets of paper are filling with my scribbles. The seed has broken through the ground now, a small green shoot. Its fragile beauty brings me to my knees. I mustn’t speak it aloud. I’ll wait awhile until its roots are stronger.