NANOWRIMO begins today, so I've already pitched myself into a not-yet-before outlined novel, but one that has gestated for several years. It first latched into my brain as a visual, something not far off of my own experiences growing up less-than-rich. It is of a migrant worker's wife in a department store, it swirling around her like a top, and she crying at the sight of so many things, and all of them out of her means. This first inkling of a story came about seven years ago. It is not the story, but the basis of one.
No comments:
Post a Comment