A Tribute To The Unwritten Novel

As writers, it’s often a safe assumption to make that yes, we’re a bit of an odd breed.  And more often than not we're the up-in-the-clouds person you see sitting on a park bench somewhere talking to themselves just before laughing out loud at some private joke we've just told ourselves. *Points to self* Yes, guilty as charged.  So when I admit that I find it very difficult to express to others (mostly non-writers) what it really means to me to write or to get lost in the pages of a gripping story, I mean it…I can’t explain it. So don’t ask.

But more importantly than my inability to effectively express basic thoughts and emotions, I think it’s very important that my unwritten novel(s) know and not fear for the future of their creation.  And to know that I look forward to their arrival and the process of developing and writing them into full completion before being presented to the world.  

So this, my unwritten novel(s), is to you…

Dear Unwritten Novel,

I know this may seem premature or somewhat odd.  Okay, really odd!  But I’m hoping, when you’re finally here and I am holding you in my hands, staring lovingly into the black font of your front title page, smelling your sweet-sweet new book smell…this will all make a little more sense.

But for now, you are still simply a flutter of thought, the hint of a whispered idea in my mind’s ear just waiting for me to start you.  So just know, that I know you know I know you’re there…buried deep, deep, real deep in the subconscious of my mind somewhere.  And that you’ll be there patiently waiting for the day when I will finally dig you out and begin to form and mold you into what you were truly meant to be…the greatest of GREAT stories. And meant to be shared with my lovely readers.  So fear not my unwritten novel(s), your conception will be very carefully planned, well thought out and thoroughly documented onto my snazzy 4G USB drive.  

And even though I haven’t met you yet, in my mind, you’re already as good as mine and as well as written.  And I intend to love and nurture your creation into being as carefully as I would any baby that I’d personally give birth to myself.  Okay, maybe not exactly like that, but VERY close.  So until the day I can feel your warm hardcover weight in my hands, and see your sharply printed pages focused in my vision straight off the postman's delivery truck, I’ll wait, and I'll dream of all the numerous possibilities that you could be.

Your Loving Author,
Blaire

P.S. – This one’s for you!

 Michael Buble "Haven't met you yet"