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It’s late summer, my novel A Triple Knot has been out for almost eight weeks, and I find myself immersed in an idea I shelved years ago. Over the past week several intriguing characters have materialized in my office with some sense of urgency, as if breaking out of an irritatingly prolonged suspension in the shadows of my subconscious and impatient to be heard at last. The concept and the place are familiar, but not these characters. I am meeting them as if for the first time, bewitched by their candor, their wit, their stories. Now is not the time to ask whether this is going anywhere. One breath of doubt might dissolve this dream, and I’ll never know what might have been. Such is the creative spark–easily doused by skepticism.

I love how Clarissa Pinkola Estes described this moment in Women Who Run With the Wolves: “…balancing a big cardhouse of ideas on a single fingertip,… and…carefully connecting all the cards using tiny crystalline bones and a little spit, and if [I] can just get it all to the table without it falling down or flying apart, [I] can bring an image from the unseen world into being.”

 

 

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