The grandbaby and mama were napping, snowflakes were falling, the dog was asleep and I had a chance to blog. I thought I ought to write about all the exciting things happening career-wise for me but all I could think about was the lovely bright eyes of the baby. The way way her dark hair was a startling contrast to her pink outfits.
Ahhhhh....the power of the newborn...new life. Old genes. The hair like
mine, the eyes like papa, the cheeks like the brother... Her own little
Oh, to be able to create characters in my novels that are as moving, entrancing, emotionally-consuming...as powerful as a newborn. As vulnerable. Characters that knock the readers right out of reality and trap them in the story. Characters that make everyone care about what happens to them. Characters that make readers wonder what the future holds.
The granddaughter's papa said it struck him that someday he will be walking his baby girl down the aisle. Grandchildren take one both forward and back...back to my daughter's wedding, my daughter's birth, my wedding...my father, my baby pictures. Forward to weddings and descendents and stories and lore... Like the first book in a good series.
Except a thousand times better...