If you have been actively following my blog, then you know there has been an on-going story called “StormWeaver” told one hundred words at a time. You can read it straight through by choosing it in categories. That series spanned more than a year.
I have a friend who once said there was no way she could write a full length novel. Where would one even get an idea for a story that lasts hundreds of pages? How about no where on purpose? How about just by starting with one hundred words that give life to a vignette that comes to mind? Take that simple start and complete a thought with a beginning, middle and end in one hundred perfect words. Then do it again.
The beginnings of StormWeaver were just that humble. A rainy cold day, the memory of a store with a bell on the door and an old metal canopy. The people appeared out of necessity. As a series of brief scenes, there is no pressure to construct all the scaffolding that is required for a novel, just keep it interesting, concise and fun. The day will come when those short bursts of creativity will chart a path for an inspired work, a novel that may be a surprise that you are the author of. StormWeaver has reached that happy destination and so I offer you the earliest draft of the first paragraph of “SoulWeaver”. It’s a fairytale of sorts with a little magic, a little fantasy and just enough truth to make it a worthwhile read.
First Paragraph Chapter 1 – Adam
There are beginnings like ‘once upon a time’ and then there is this one, upon which time once was. Like all beginnings, it started with love. Like all stories, it took a mighty twist and messed it all up. But Adam knew nothing of that and it would remain so because he lived peacefully in his little cottage built into the hillside with only his Maggie cat to disturb his sleep. Such was the life of a man who worked hard with his hands both in the field and at his workbench.
Sure there were days when he saw little children catching butterflies in the meadow and thought raising a child would be a worthy endeavor. Yes, there were cold winter nights when ice covered the windows and the idea of a warm beauty near drove him to the bar where he knew there would be at least one lonely maiden. Then he fell asleep and as usual his mind conjured up no dreams except for the one that comforted him always.
So that’s the beginning. Let me know what you think and if your interest is really piqued please know, I am looking for beta readers for this novel in the new year. If you’re interested please leave a comment. Meanwhile, have a fantastical, inspired day! Best, Clare.