In 1942, this tunnel in Williamsburg, VA had a dirt floor and was a great place for young couples to walk through, holding hands. Or to sneak a kiss.
I blog today because of a comment my husband made this morning. He was at his computer with that last cup of morning coffee when he mentioned that all the regular bloggers he reads have quit posting.
Hey it's summer - people are mowing grass and climbing mountains and sky diving!
I've done precious little of that stuff. A smidge of mowing, maybe. And too little hiking. But skydiving? Get real!
So what's my excuse for not blogging? I found it this morning embedded in a post on my YA Writer listserve. One of my fellow writers put it like this.
What is it with non-writers that they don't understand how
deeply you have to be involved with the book to be able to write or
Wow! Not sure why I needed Mary Beth to clarify this for me but suddenly I realized why I had trouble writing this story I'm working on. I wasn't deeply involved enough. In some ways it all boiled down to more research.
But it was also about being deeply involved. Having the house to myself for hours on end and even for a few days. Reading chapters aloud and studying photographs, interviewing octogenarians, reading their memoirs, and exploring material that is in some way related to the time and place of my story. (Did I mention research?)
Have I mentioned going back to 1942 and staying there?
I think Mary Beth has it right and I've been thinking about that alot this summer. Writing a story means drilling down into the setting, the time, the characters. If we're jerked back into our real lives too often, we're apt to become disoriented. And it's hard to write when you're groping about in search of what you were saying just before you got interrupted.
Fortunately, I got past my dry spell this summer. And wrote the story. Mostly by slogging through some uphill moments in the last several weeks.
I'm wrapping up that first draft this week. And reading it aloud all day everyday. And tweaking. And I'm so happy because I'm going to spend next week with dear editor and some lovely, like-minded writers. We'll be immersing ourselves in our stories.
But I promise to blog some - so hubby has something to go with his coffee.
Anyway. There's my excuse for not blogging recently. Nothing to do with skydiving. Just been off in a different decade, is all.