So, I'm driving home from the gym this morning and I suddenly see a classroom with a kid asleep at a table and everyone in a panic around her. They can't wake her and are considering calling 9-1-1. The kid, I realize, is Jackie Stark, the protagonist of a story that doesn't exist. Yet.
Back to the classroom.
Just as the teacher decides to call an ambulance, Jackie's friend Martin returns from his trip to the washroom and quickly assesses the situation. This is what Jackie had been trying to tell him - that sometimes she gets trapped in the Vale and can't get out. In the waking world, it looks like she is unconscious, completely unresponsive. Last week, she told him a word and made him memorize it. It is the word that will snap her out of her state - the one word that can travel into the Vale, find her, and release her from whatever holds her there. He pushes through the crowd of students and asks the teacher to wait before calling the ambulance. He puts his hand on her back and leans down to whisper her Home Word into her ear.
But . . . I don't know the word yet.
Also, I think the reason there is such an age gap between Jackie and her little sister Desi is that there was another child who didn't live. A boy. But I don't know what happened to him. I'm a little worried there may have been foul play.
And I'm pretty sure that the stupid woman from the car dealership who is dating Jackie's dad is involved in some way, but I don't know how.
This is the garden of a new story. At one end, I'm still putting nutrients into the soil and preparing the beds, and at the other end, things are sprouting. And some are growing into baby stalks already. I'm all over the place and at this stage, I'm not entirely sure which shoots are weeds and which are going to produce something I can sink my teeth into.
It's not going fast, and I'm determined not to rush things. I had a dream the other night in which I lost control of my car and it flew off a cliff ala Thelma and Louise (but Shannon and Monica) and the one line I could still hear as I woke, was, "Why the hell was I going so fast?" If that's not a sign, what is?
But it is agonizing. I want to have something to show for every hour - a word count. I need to be able to measure my progress. I'm a Virgo.
But, I am determined to let this story come to me. It may be a disaster, but I have to try it this way.
So, I go to the gym, and clip the dog's hair, and make fajitas for dinner and while I'm doing these things, I think about Jackie. And Desi. And Martin. And the evil Jackson Kraft.
I'm prepping the beds of my garden.
I'm collecting questions and planting them like mystery seeds.
It is the best of times. It is the worst of times.
