A Novel Idea

"I had a fever as a child.  I remember being in an ice bath.  I think I had a vision.  Or something."  This is a piece of the conversation I had when I first met Lisa Snellings.  I'm not positive this is how the conversation went, but it is what I heard.  Is that what counts?  Hmm.  Lisa fascinates me.  Lisa inspires me.  I look up to her.  I came home and told everyone about meeting her.  I wasn't really able to do the meeting justice, though.  How many times can you scream, "But it was the artist Lisa Snellings!  Lisa Snellings!"  My friends and family stared at me politely and smiled widely.  I could tell they didn't get my excitement, but I could also tell they wanted to get it.  Yes.  Yes, this is what counts.  My excitement about meeting Lisa had caught on.  Hmm.

The conversation about the ice bath has played over and over in my head.  I want to do something with it.  Something, but what?  I had a five hour drive yesterday.  I was all by myself in the car.  I turned the radio off for most of the drive.  It was sort of like being in a meditative state at 70 miles an hour.  The ice bath.  The ice bath.  The Ice Bath.  THE Ice Bath.  THE ICE BATH.  It was screaming at me.  This is all it did, though.  I finally made it to my destination late last night.

I'm with my family at Holden Beach, N.C.  I have been coming here since I was born.  Literally.  In an odd turn of events, I am here with my parents, my sister, and my nephew.  No husbands.  They couldn't make it.  It's like being a child again.  THE ICE BATH.  Still screaming.

I woke up this morning to fresh coffee and grits on the deck.  Not too shabby, eh?  I had breakfast with my family as my nephew danced around us with his Nerf gun.  Yes, it was still relaxing.  I came inside

Holden Beach, N.C.

and sat down with my coffee and the latest issue of The Writer magazine.  There was a great article titled "Four Walls and a writer."  Do you know how you can read an article and take something away from it that may not have been intended?  I think that's what happened to me.  The article was about giving writers houses that have been in foreclosure in Detroit.  The article got me to thinkin'.  Are my four walls good?  Are they too small?  Perhaps.  I took a walk with my sister on the beach.  I finally uttered the words to her.  "So, can I tell you about the ice bath?"  I told her Lisa's story, and I now had the magazine article stuck in my head.  Did I come on this trip because my four writer walls needed expanding?  I believe I did!

I have been working on a novel titled Prue and The Needle Factory.  So far, I have been in the research and brainstorming stage.  I have lots of words on the screen, but I'm not sure the story has taken shape--until today.  Prue=Lisa.  Lisa=Prue.  I have been trying so hard to create my character, Prue, and she has been with me this entire time.  Prue is Lisa as a child.  Prue is in the ice bath.  Prue=Lisa.  Lisa=Prue.

I came in from my walk with my sister, and I began frantically spilling everything from my brain to a legal sized notepad.  As it began to fill up, Prue began to take shape.  I think this was swimming around in my head since the first conversation I had with Lisa.  I believe it was sneaking around in the back of my brain on my drive yesterday.  I know it came out to play a bit, while I was reading the article.  Then, I expanded my four writer walls, and the ice bath had meaning.  Prue had meaning.  My conversation with Lisa had meaning.  No wonder people had no idea what I was babbling about when I would talk about meeting Lisa, yet they still had these interested and excited grins on their faces.  They saw it, too.  None of us knew what it was yet.  And, this is ok.  It was a novel idea.

The Writer article.

What now?  How do I keep Marching Fourth with this novel?  I don't have the answers.  I have to trust the process. I need to keep expanding my walls.  Changing them.  Sometimes making them smaller.  Always allowing them to move.  Yes.  Yes, this is the answer.