Writers disappear between books, kind of like moles, we go underground. While out of sight we work on–you guessed it–the next book.
The next book for me is not at all what I expected. It is not realistic fiction–I would call it unrealistic fiction (you might call it fantasy).
Here is the premise:
Imagine there is a bead that is the portal through which all of time flows. It has been passed down from generation to generation by the women of the Summers family–a man may never be the guardian of time, such power turns men into monsters.
Now the bead has been passed to Beatrice, a high school sophomore who, so far, has been barely noticed at school.
Possession of the bead is changing mousy Beatrice–suddenly she is visible to the popular kids in class, including Dennis, quarterback and king of the giant egos.
But Bea would give the bead away if she could because holding it she can see an array of conflicting futures. How does time work? Is it multiple choice until the future becomes now, and does the keeper of time have any control over which “now” becomes real? What happens when a man does take over the bead?
I am wondering about that too. I think I’ll write the rest of the story to see what happens. That’s right, I don’t know until the words are on the screen. Just like the futures shown to the keeper by bead of time, my stories could go anywhere.
That’s the scary part. That’s the exciting part.