Idea Soup

The 2027 novel sloshes about up there. Holding is like holding soup. Shaping it remains out of reach yet.

In my thoughts, I don’t think much about past stories. Doesn’t do me any good, especially when it was good. I attempted to do a short-form video that shows me writing out the opening paragraphs of the 2024 novel, The Little Ambulance War of Winchester County.

I left public service several years ago. Yet with the perversity of the Fates, I still find myself standing next to dead bodies for hours. I still find myself driving to car wrecks. And like yesterday, standing in a house being destroyed by violence, fear, alcohol, and incurable illnesses. The events echo a life’s work. Someone dials 911, and then I walk in.

In the video, you’d see my hand holding a fountain pen writing these words out. While you guys may not know the story, yet, I do. I am able to see the entire structure of the story in that graph. It has form, structure, and is firm. Not sloshy like soup.

2027 novel behaves like fine beach sand from Cranes Beach, north of Boston, it spills between the fingers. I have this drawing booklet with wee sketches in it. At one moment, I have an elderly New England woman who lives alone in the woods. Grandmotherly, but not. Hansel and Gretel or a small lass in a red cloak? Likely neither, of course. The little treatment, sketch, I did up let me explore my native woods with spring ephemerals that grow on the forest floor just after the snow clears.

Floating in my soupy thoughts is a love story with two teens, and for fun, I think they’ll be straight. Why not? I’ve heard that love can support the arc of a novel, and rather a few dramas.

And of course, I have my normal add-ins: Alex Flynn, Sarah Ann Musgrave, Brighid Doran, and Harry. And this crew bring their own kit-bag of chaos: death, suicides, car wrecks, arrests. My sketchy notes tell me stories of medicine and crime that I can use to season the story.

As I get the characters developed, I need to let the plot and subplots find me and I put fingers to the keyboard. I should not admit that I am impatient to get started. For now, the soup simmers.