Few things make Writer Me more anxious than being asked to explain my process. I mean, like, being articulate is kind of my job, it seems, right?
And yet, if I’m honest I’ll admit that how I do what I do is mostly a mystery to me. Here’s a little piece I recently wrote trying to figure out (for myself as much as anyone) what went into my two newest books, pubbing next year.
I’ve been back to my island. A tiny trip, distance wise. So why does going there always make me feel as if I’ve traveled far away, to a place very strange and yet mine ? As if, who knows, this time I just might not come back?
Maybe because I grew up on an island–a Long one, to be sure, with so many houses and cars and shopping malls that I wondered, even as a child, if it might not sink.
Maybe because writers have always daydreamed about islands, whole worlds unto themselves, apart and removed, brimming with secrets. An island throws you back on your own resources. An island taunts you, whispers, Live here if you dare.
Next month I’ll start sharing some things from my new book, Moonpenny Island, including the gorgeous cover. For today, here are a few of the photos I recently took , places and sights that spun my imagination and got me writing the story.
how I get around
the little shop where I imagined my main character’s mother selling lighthouse salt and pepper shakers
the haunted, ill-fated swim hole in the old quarry
Enough for now! I’m making myself island sick!