The Beginning of the End or . . . The Beginning

I don’t why it happened, but this morning I started off with the idea of writing a romance novel on the Great Depression involving a widow tracking across the country to go back home to her family, but not before encountering a dashing young man who happens to witness her murder a hobo on a train.

Oh so deliciously interesting right?    

It's almost midnight now and the sinking feeling that bouncing around between homework, reading, and working on my internship has mixed in with nearly forty pages of a novel. I don't think I have written that many pages in a long time. Certainly not that many pages in one sitting. I can't really put my finger on why all these characters and situations just seem to flow out of my fingertips without much effort. 

Maybe it's because I've decided to throw caution to the wind and not really care whether this book is marketable or even if anyone else wants to read it.

I want to read it. 

I want to know what happens next to these characters I made. And they won't let me know until I start writing. I love the fact that I killed a character off in the first sentence and then immediately fell in love with him! Of course I would do that to myself. Unlike many of the characters I wrote my main character (mc) is actually likeable. She's a strong woman who finally finds herself in the death of someone she loved very much. 

In a way this novel has become almost like therapy. Every word is something that is important to me, from the grieving process, abandonment, the need to go home,  love, good food, cooking, and the lack of funds. 

I think what makes this (currently untitled) project so compelling to me is that I really don't know what the heck is gonna happen next! I have a vague idea of certain connections between people, but that certainly changed the minute another character I planned to be this awesome romantic lead showed up. In truth, he's kind of a jerk, well that's not a stretch as most romantic men turn out that way, but he's verging on rude at some points and my beautifully wonderful MC knows when to pick her battles. The fact that I don't have an outline for this novel means one thing . . . it feels like I'm reading or experiencing this book rather then writing it. 

That feeling is new to me. Mostly I will do an outline, know every little detail of everyone's life, before I sit down to write. The sitting down part usually never happens and I'm left with an awesome outline, but no completed work to show for it. With this novel I had no idea what was happening besides the idea of starting off the novel with a death, the time period, and three characters. From there on it flowed from me. I found my main character and I found what made her tick, but not everything, not yet. I don't even have a name for one of my characters!

I'm just excited to see where this goes because right now I feel like a reader of my own story!