I don’t know if I’ve shared this elsewhere, but the deal is, I was staying at a famous wordsmith’s beach home on the Florida Panhandle in 2009. The coast was stricken with Red Tide, so we couldn’t go near the beach. The weather was meh, and we could only visit the beachy boutiques and eateries just so much, so we stayed inside for a lazy couple of days.
It was then that it hit me: A place like this, where the writer goes to create her own huge hits, must be bursting with creative energy residue. I thought more about the place and the stories it must hold. One thought led to another and I grabbed my laptop and began to write. I’d gotten four chapters in (I write extremely fast) by the time we had to pack up and head back home, saying goodbye to our beautiful little retreat.
We made it home safe and sound and all was well until I turned on the aging behemoth of a brick that was my laptop at the time. It was dead. Nada, nothing, zilch. I’d lost all the work I had already done. I wasn’t as concerned about that as about losing the inspiration I had from the muse or energy or whatever it was whispering in my ear during that burst of creativity. I had no choice but to give up on those stories, accepting that the digital ninth circle of hell had swallowed them whole.
But the voices kept speaking to me. The characters begged to be let out of their cage. And after five tortuous years, I freed them.
They are the people that make up The Gray Lady of Long Branch and they are stubborn, insistent, fun, human, frail, wild and genuine. They go through heart-wrenching traumas, and experience first love. They get in a shitload of trouble, and hold it together for beloved family members breathing their last. They die, they are born, they eat, they drink and make love with lust and the timidity of virgins.
They are my creations and they make up The Gray Lady of Long Branch. I hope you like it! Consider placing an advance order to save big on the cover price. If you are stateside, get the free shipping deal at that same link.