Last night I wrote the final scenes in my novel. As I mentioned in an earlier post, I was doing research for a book about local history when a newspaper story from 1918 sidetracked me. On January 19 a story started coming to me (inspired by the article). I began typing it a few days later and now it’s done: about 70,000 words. The story, called Jim Wrenn, begins in the mountains of western Virginia, proceeds to a mill town on a river in the Piedmont and ends up on a nearby farm. The story occurs between 1909 to 1942, then jumps forward to 1995-96. I’m no Tolstoy by any stretch of the imagination, but I think it’s a pretty good story.
Now I just need to figure out what to do with the darn thing.
On to more interesting news: we’ve only had one new kid since my last update, but she’s a real cutie.
Lots more on the way.