I stand on the edge of darkness that yawns like a massive mouth of eternity. Let me tell you, that first step is a doozie.
I’m building a story that is large, intricate, and most of all, intimidating. I hesitate, wondering if it’s too big for me to handle. I feel like a juggler staring up at flaming stars tumbling from the sky, stars I must keep in the air at all cost. I’ve created over 30 characters for this story (and I have a feeling I’m not done). It’s a little Prison Break. A little Numb3rs. A little Ruin, the movie that totally ticked me off. And a bunch I can’t even begin to say where I picked this or that up. I’ve sponged ideas off everything I’ve ever touched and heard, and it’s all converging, now, in this story.
Yes, I speak of the Mayan fantasy, which has become so much more than I originally envisioned. Night Sun Rising was only a drop in the bucket. An insignificant speck in the worlds within worlds this story has become.
I remember someone telling me a book cannot be all things. It should be tight and lean. I remember, and I tremble a moment in doubt, yet this story has a mind of its own. A premise is unfolding, and if it’s as tight and mean and big as I think, it’ll be a killer.
After all, everybody has a line to cross.
Sorry, I’m still not in a position to share a Friday Snippet.