Premeditating Writer

In between writing, I garden. Pulling weeds could be tedious. I know. But this mindless task frees my imagination. Being in nature reminds me of beauty and helps in the  process of finishing my novel.

The following is an excerpt from my first, unpublished novel.

Jamie felt a slight jerk and then the sound of the electric motor when they began to roll. She could sense Zoe tightening every muscle in her body, as if bracing for the imminent collapse of the wall upon them. The powerful beam of her cap light shone into Zoe’s eyes.


“It will be fine,” Jamie said.

“How do you know when the roof will cave in?” Zoe said.

“You listen to noises,” Kenevitz said.

                                                                 “What if there’s an explosion or a fire?”

                                                                 Jamie could hear the smile in Kenevitz’s voice. “Believe me; you'll know when to run when the time comes.”


...And this is why pulling weeds could be helpful.

I can't believe I'm writing a thriller. I don't read 'em...don't watch 'em. But here I am writing one. It just happened. I had an idea of a story, was sure it would turn out to be Literary Fiction just like my first book.


At the outset my protagonist only reacts to events; at some point, however, she embarks on an attempt to take charge and overcome circumstances.

The way it turned out to be, the growth of the protagonist is from ignorance to knowledge, accomplished through a series of progressively more intense and important conflicts. These lead to a climactic conflict and the resolution of the story.



I’m almost 200 pages into the story. Yay me.

The polite rejection letters continue to arrive. Can't say it’s not affecting me. It is. But I try to keep an upbeat outlook. Mainly, I continue to write everyday while splitting my loyalty between two books: the one rejected, and the one in progress.