The weather here in New England has finally, after much hesitation, turned towards summer. I've been hiking in shorts and sitting on the deck and eating hamburgers cooked on the grill.
And yet, as I sit at my writing desk, I'm deep in the heart of winter season. I'm making inroads with a new book, called Fall Line, which is set in ski world. I'd wanted to write another ski book after Dancing in the White Room, but hadn't sat down to do it until recently. Creech, a secondary character from DWR, has been calling on me to tell his story. He's become ski coach of world class racers. On his team is Mia Whitmeyer, a champion skier with a long list of accolades. We've all been busy getting acquainted here in the garret. And Mia and Creech dance around each other, slowly, slowly coming to...well, something.
Those of you who know me know that I've always got several projects brewing on my laptop. I'm going to have to let go of my winter time story soon and turn my thoughts to the eighteen hundreds and clipper ships, because Anton and Lenora too, have one more long story to tell before I'm through with them. And then there's my feisty comedy heroine, Georgette, who likes to grab the spotlight.
But, for now, I'll ski with Mia and Creech and hang on to winter for just a little bit longer.
Here, for no special reason, are a few lines of the story, unedited and not yet ready for prime time
He laughed. “I am the proud owner of a dilapidated farmhouse. Four bedrooms, leaky roof and a bathroom with rusty pipes. I’m not sure I want to sell it. I managed to rent it out, which is how I’m funding this place.”
“The farmhouse is in Lake Placid?”
“Wilmington, actually. Not far from Whiteface Mountain.”
“Why wouldn’t you want to sell? It’s a long commute from here.”
He ran his finger over the tape along the top of the box. “I don’t know. I kind of love the place, I guess. It’s nice to think a piece of my life is still back there, waiting for me to return to it.” He shook his head. “Sorry, I’m getting real sentimental in my old age.”
And yet, as I sit at my writing desk, I'm deep in the heart of winter season. I'm making inroads with a new book, called Fall Line, which is set in ski world. I'd wanted to write another ski book after Dancing in the White Room, but hadn't sat down to do it until recently. Creech, a secondary character from DWR, has been calling on me to tell his story. He's become ski coach of world class racers. On his team is Mia Whitmeyer, a champion skier with a long list of accolades. We've all been busy getting acquainted here in the garret. And Mia and Creech dance around each other, slowly, slowly coming to...well, something.
Those of you who know me know that I've always got several projects brewing on my laptop. I'm going to have to let go of my winter time story soon and turn my thoughts to the eighteen hundreds and clipper ships, because Anton and Lenora too, have one more long story to tell before I'm through with them. And then there's my feisty comedy heroine, Georgette, who likes to grab the spotlight.
But, for now, I'll ski with Mia and Creech and hang on to winter for just a little bit longer.
Here, for no special reason, are a few lines of the story, unedited and not yet ready for prime time
He laughed. “I am the proud owner of a dilapidated farmhouse. Four bedrooms, leaky roof and a bathroom with rusty pipes. I’m not sure I want to sell it. I managed to rent it out, which is how I’m funding this place.”
“The farmhouse is in Lake Placid?”
“Wilmington, actually. Not far from Whiteface Mountain.”
“Why wouldn’t you want to sell? It’s a long commute from here.”
He ran his finger over the tape along the top of the box. “I don’t know. I kind of love the place, I guess. It’s nice to think a piece of my life is still back there, waiting for me to return to it.” He shook his head. “Sorry, I’m getting real sentimental in my old age.”
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