My New October Life

 So now it's October, the most autumnal of autumn months, "season of mists and mellow fruitfulness" (Keats). We made a visit to Munson's Farmstand in an effort to make a small, seasonal beautification of our beloved cottage. 

We are eagerly awaiting the changing colors of the many mature trees on our morning walk down Bluff Street, especially the maples, which have the promise of adding scarlet and crimson to the predominant gold of Colorado's fall foliage. The days are still warm, but the nights are cool. Today, as is fitting for the first day of October, the high is forecast to be 75 and the low to be 42. Bliss!

After a hiatus on my writing project, this morning I returned to the writing nook at 4:15 a.m., settled myself on the cozy loveseat there under a fleecy blanket, and picked up my pen again. 

During August I scribbled some 30-plus pages of notes and wrote 20 pages of actual text, which I shared with my writing group, the Writing Roosters, at our mid-September meeting. They had WONDERFUL comments. There is a magic in a critique group, where each member comes with their own comments and questions, but as we talk together, the interaction produces something new that none of us might have come up with on our own. 

Main problem they identified: this was my first-ever try at writing a book with an omniscient narrator, and I clearly have a lot to learn about how to do this effectively. Readers need to have a wise, trustworthy, insightful, authoritative presence guiding them through the story. All I had was distracting, frenetic head-hopping from one character's point-of-view to another's. But I LIKE learning new things!

Main insightful question they posed: the book is the story of four children during a semi-enchanted summer on a street much like my own Bluff Street, a street filled with whimsy and wonder, where the street itself is going to be a character in its own right. So: "How do the children need the street? And how does the street need the children?" Ooh!!!!!!

I couldn't leap into work on the book right away, however, as a long-dormant academic project reappeared on my desk to command my immediate attention. I sent it off a few days ago, and then gave myself a few days to recover.

Then today, the first day of the month, the first day of my FAVORITE month, I spent a joyous hour this morning, asking myself, "How DOES the street need the children?" I think I have the start of a couple of tentative attempts at an answer... and I have all month, and all year, and the rest of my life, really, to answer it, as ALL I want from writing now, in the eighth decade of my life, is joy, in whatever form it comes to me. And this is the form in which it is coming to me now...