…the kids. There was a general outcry (all right, maybe it wasn’t quite that pronounced, more a general wave of frownie faces) when I told the kids I was trying to decide which novel to resume and that it might not be “theirs.” They really wanted me to work on something I’ll actually let them read, so that was that–I am back to work on my youth fantasy manuscript. And surprise–I’m completely engaged in it, much more than I was when I last set it aside a few months ago.

New characters, plot twists, even a new title and a theme, an actual theme, have all been popping in and out of my mind like some crazed literary version of Whack-a-mole. I feel like Neo at the end of The Matrix, when he looks at the agents and sees only code, the entire world laid out before him in insanely pristine clarity. After so many months–let’s face it, closer to years–of working at revising a manuscript, I had almost forgotten how much freakin’ (to quote my kids) fun it is to create a new one.

I just spent two hours working on it and it felt like two minutes. I am filled with joy at rediscovering that feeling.

Writing this book is also different in that I not only can share it with my kids, but I want to; they are, after all, my target audience. Hearing their feedback and pondering their suggestions is turning out to be much more fun than I ever thought it would, though probably not, in reality, as much fun as they thought it would be:

“What did you think of my new title, guys?” “Got any ideas for a good name for my new character?” “What do you think Bibi’s favorite color should be?”

“Really, Mom? The novelist thing was kind of cool at first, but could you just get me a snack and let me get back to Roblox? I’m at kind of a critical moment here…”

Let ’em gripe. I’ll just write it into the book. Mwahahahaha…