In the beginning

An idea for a novel has been with me for at least three years. Manifestations of it have appeared in various guises and voices. At times it even haunts my dreams. One morning last week, in that nebulous state of neither sleeping or waking, the answer presented itself. Write it in the first person. Tell the story of Jenny Palmer and through her eyes the stories of the people who populate her life. It sounds so easy. And the first few paragraphs practically wrote themselves. Then reality returned. Plodding – one word in front of the other – is the only way to write the story. Just as any journey is made putting one foot in front of the other.
Plod on.


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