I was too busy trying to finish Storm Front #6 and plan The King’s Phoenix and accidentally let this slide.
Around now, ten years ago, a vocal female with white hair and a foxy shapeshifting sidekick stepped into my imagination. She demanded I tell her story. I obliged and wrote positively the worst unfinished manuscript ever. I only wrote when I was inspired and when I had access to the family computer, two not very common occurrences.
I junked the manuscript when I realised the plot was worse than anything I’d ever read before.
I started a re-write about three years later. The process was extraordinarily slow, as I was now at university and spent most of my time studying and writing essays. Still, this vocal female and her shapeshifting sidekick never left my head. It was around this time I started getting encouragement to share my writing.
I never planned to. I was going to write this entire monster manuscript of about 500,000 words and get it professionally bound in leather to sit on my bookshelf and read when I took the fancy. Writing was private. Even now, I can’t stand someone watching over my shoulder as I write. It’s an invasion of privacy. It’s like someone can see into my brain and watch my thought processes.
I would often read back what I’d written for the sheer pleasure of it. I loved my characters, and I loved the story I was telling. I often thought that this was the only story I would ever be able to tell, and once it was ‘over’ I would be able to get on with ‘real life’.
I can’t imagine a world without writing. So far there’s two complete books and a half-written third one in a planned series of six.
I can’t imagine a world without these characters. They have been with me through more than a lot of people I know.
Happy anniversary, Innocence and Tagodan. I love you guys.