"It was a dark and stormy night". I've always wanted to type that as a real live author. When I was a boy watching Charlie Browns' "stupid beagle" type away on the roof of his doghouse, I couldn't understand what drove him to do so. Now, 50 years later, I do understand and I am in awe of the complexities of an authors' psyche. At least this authors'.
Now that thirty people plus one, (our local librarian, Janice Keck, asked me one Saturday at the CWW meeting) have asked me "why curse of the eraser?", I find I must answer to the best of my ability in the written form.
It was, actually, one night about two in the morning. I had fallen asleep on our three season deck, watching TV. When I do this, my wife just lets me sleep, not bothering to tell me to come to bed, fearing I wouldn't get back to sleep again if she did. But that evening, I did wake and there "it" was. I was grasping for a few days as I had begun writing about the Palmers, not knowing what direction to go, looking for something, anything, to say. Basically, I had no idea what I was going to write about in this novel, but I knew I wanted to write one. I felt like a beagle on the roof of my dog house. But, like I said, there "it" was. A verse. 'A verse?' I thought. Trust me, I am no poet. But, in this single verse, was everything to begin the entire novel. I was dumbfounded.
Consequently, I got up, went to my computer and typed it out. I don't remember changing a single word. It is the only poetry in the entire work. Thank goodness, but it contains so much that the reader will eventually see as the story unfolds. It was a gift to me. Hopefully, the words will be seen by many.
Now you know, "Why the curse of the eraser?"
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