Last summer, when TV went digital, I stopped watching. Soon I was entertaining myself with little stories in my head. One in particular had a character who began to demand my attention. I would wake up in the morning thinking about him. After a week or two of this, I confessed my fantasy to a friend who suggested I started writing it down and see where it went. It turned into a short story that I could not let go of. And then, perhaps a month later, the day after I signed papers to cash a small 401K, I lost my job. I continued to fiddle with the story. The plot grew, more characters popped up. Eventually I surrendered, clearly I was writing a novel.
My background is painting, I'm good but not financially successful. I have experimented with memoirs but never took it seriously. I started my other two blogs a little over a year ago and enjoyed commenting on the art and photographs I was posting. But this project, the novel, was different. It took me over, my characters ran my life, and in the end, I was thrilled with the final product.
My intention with this blog is to chronicle the process. Who and what the characters mean to me, what the story is about. The situation I'm in now trying to get it read and published. The sequel, because there is a sequel already in the works, and how it evolved from the first book. I want to keep it separate from the photos, although they will, no doubt, be making appearances here as well. New York, especially Soho and Chelsea, are characters too.