Well, I finished a VERY rough draft of the first chapter of my new book this week.
So, that’s pretty cool.
I am beginning to notice a pattern in what inspires my books. With Gatekeeper, the first idea sprang from the vivid image of a purple flower amidst desolate grasslands. The Ancient flowed from an image that popped into my head while listening to Gregorian chant: I saw a line of monks singing, and knew instinctively that one of them wasn’t human. C. Writ 101, my first play, was born out of a dream – specifically, one lingering image from that dream that is, even now, still vivid in my mind.
This next book – of which I shall not yet reveal the title – started with a similarly vivid image.
It was the summer of 2008, between my second and final years of graduate school. I had elected to stay in Athens (Georgia, not Greece – go Dawgs!) over the summer, working and saving money. The associate pastor of my church was on vacation with his family, and he asked me to house/pet-sit for a couple weeks. (I did a lot of that in grad school, for pastors and elders and professors. It was fun.) I was doing my daily run in that neighborhood, listening to my then-favorite song (more on that later), and musing on Story.
Tolkien and Lewis had their own worlds that they could go to, I thought as I ran. I love those worlds, but they will never be truly mine – they belong most fully to the ones who got to participate in their creation. Where’s MY world?
That’s when I saw it – a vivid image in my mind:
A man in modern clothes – black jeans, black t-shirt, black leather jacket – is lying by the bank of a river. He wakes up and looks around. He has no idea how he got there. Kneeling beside him is a woman in historic costume – maybe medieval, or maybe French revolution. The man has a guitar.
He is the Minstrel.
That was it – along with the heady, intoxicating sense that *literally* ANYTHING could happen in this world. It was pure fantasy. I felt my imagination fluttering nervously, eager to take wing but also a little intimidated by the immensity of the freedom.
Not much of a start, but I knew I had found it: this was my world.
I also knew it would be years before I could explore it fully. I hadn’t even written Gatekeeper II yet, and it was hard to see past the all-consuming haze of grad school.
Still, I had it.
I made several notes over the years in various journals, and certain aspects of the world started to take shape. I knew it would be a series – five books was my first estimate, and I hold to that still. With increasing excitement, I planned to jump into this story as soon as the Gatekeeper trilogy was finished.
Then The Ancient happened.
I do not regret The Ancient. Indeed, I feel it was an important bridge between the realism of Gatekeeper and the more fantastical fare on which I plan to focus my career.
But now, at last, I get to live in my world.
I still have a great deal – like, several major plot points – to figure out. I know the beginning and the end, but there’s a lot in between that’s still murky. Furthermore, the tone of this book is vastly different from The Ancient. I want it to have more humor, more action, and even a hint of romance. Plus, I have five books to think about, not just one. With so much to sort through, I wasn’t planning on starting the actual text until I had fleshed out a firmer outline.
Then, last week, I was running – and, again, listening to that song.
And, again, there it was in my head: the man waking up by the river, with the girl kneeling beside him.
Only this time, I knew what the man was thinking.
I knew what his first words would be.
And, as I ran (and listened to that song a few more times), the first chapter took shape in my head.
And I LIKED IT.
For your listening pleasure, here is the song that has proven itself (twice now) as the banner song for this story. It’s from a small indie band in Athens called Wedge. My friend at UGA introduced me to them – in fact, he gave me this album. (I think he worked with the lead singer – at one of my favorite restaurants, no less).
Incidentally, this song also became my banner song for my grad school years. My journals – which I’ve been reading through, so it’s fresh in my mind – are full of phrases like: “I drove home from rehearsal tonight, listening to ‘Jupiter’ again and praying for this wonderful town and all the dear people in it.” This song IS Athens to me. It is UGA, and grad school, and all the wrenching, wonderful things that happened there. It is who I was then – and, therefore, it is an important part of who I am now.
Amazing!! I listen to music and NEVER have whole books birthed into consciousness. WOW!! Praise God for the gift He has entrusted to you!!!
Yay for new beginnings and inspiration and all the things!
The next book adventure begins!
Music is powerful. My first attempt at a novel was born from listening to the movie soundtracks from Henry V, Braveheart, Legends of the Fall, and Glory. The music still calls to me from time to time. I will listen again and discover Brochaine all over again.