As I reap the rewards of writing and publishing Divine Wars; the Awakening, I am struck with the next phase of the next installment… this is a trilogy. A story about good and evil, but not the kind that the world may be familiarly intimate with.
When I say ‘rewards’, I don’t mean monetarily. I mean profusely inspirational. However, as I prepare to begin the second installment, I have run into some… setbacks. Not writer’s block, or inertia, just a pure lack of grounding as the story itself continues to take on a fascinating perpetual, moving, living, breathing, aspect of itself. It has a life of its own. I am invited to live it, though only in spurts.
I do feel as if I’m on a swing – a giant one – that never stops moving. In fact, the only way I can get on, is if I step onto something close to a giant ladder, and then hurl myself onto it like a gifted gymnast. By the same token, the only way I can get off, is to catapult myself into the air; the moving clouds my only compass. Perhaps a divine compass?
I only know this: in order to chase the clouds, I have to be willing to fall off the swing, even when I think I’m properly positioned on it. When they take shape, be they be my map, or simply a reminder of a state of illusive grace, I must see. I must keep my eyes open, even if my fingers rest near my keyboard. As my laptop sleeps and beats in tune with my heart. Even if I think nothing is happening, I know deep down, everything is taking the shape it must, and I have no control over it. I only know, the story takes shape in its own time, its own place, and dances to its own beat. I can only hope to keep in step with this lovely and sacred dance.