Wolf

And so we’re back at it, discovering little holes here and there where wind whistles through. Part of my writing process is dropping little seeds here and there, somewhat chaotically, somewhat randomly, and so only just now did I realize that I planted a seed for a very important worldbuildy chapter, but I never picked up the seed or watered it.

This novel revolves around clan relationships, of a people who pride themselves on independence and freedom, even as they’re trapped between several competing kingdoms.

Economic and cultural threats and constraints surround them yet they’re frogs blithely being boiled alive. They believe in their self reliance but don’t see how the world is exploiting them with their own help.

And this is a conflict happening underneath the novel.

Tree shepherds. They manage an orchard but within that orchard grow strange trees with black leaves and crimson bark that grow in clusters, always forming a circle. There’s something sacred here. Something magical. And yet I kept not developing it–in part because I don’t know to what purpose–but I’m drawing it out now. Creating and crafting these trees that will be very significant in a future novel, though right now they’re just a pleasantly strange image to wrap round.

Layers.

That’s what much of this novel writing has become ever since I hit the 100,000 word mark and decided to go back and develop things further so that I can approach the novel’s ending with the full weight of this meaning and significance. And so I’m building layers, slowly but surely, sometimes through songs and poems, sometimes through delving into stories of strange trees with blackened leaves and healing sap.

Of fungus.

The work progresses. It’s slower now, which is so against every fiber of me. I long to crank out words by the bushel, but I’m taking my time and examining this properly, closely, to build it into something whose surface shines with a polish. But if you bother to dig deeper, if you choose to read the novel again, there will be more to discover.

Or so I hope.

The trick, of course, when writing a book that rewards the rereader is to write a book worth reading and rereading. Because if people don’t absolutely love it the first time through, no one will bother to read it again and again to discover all the little seeds you planted, all the clever traps and treasureful alcoves you placed along the way.