Here are some things in the novel I’ve been working on all summer, in no particular order:
The afterlife, foot races, secret doors, Napoleon Bonaparte, Hokkaido Japan, small town Ohio, the Battle of the Nile, swimming pools, time, space, helixes of light, births, deaths, willow trees, executions, endless hallways, and the pyramids, true love.
I wish I could write a normal story. A page turner. A mystery. A domestic drama. But when I sit down to write, this is what happens.
I’ve been thinking of this as my “last chance” novel. I’m not sure if I’m setting myself up for success with such a strange story. This, for better or worse, is how I roll.