Posted by 400 days ago
Category: Seriously
Tags: , ,

In reviewing my first draft of my (first?) novel, I have found the word “bloom” used as a verb several times. You might wonder why I don’t remember writing it so often, but other writers might tell you that they, too, review their words as if reading a work penned by someone else. They feel unfamiliar, yet of me. When I see the sentence “An answer blooms in her mind: a chance to say goodbye,” I am surprised to see that word again, but I also think of course. Because that’s how a feeling happens to me, or a slow realization.

I imagine it blooming not like a flower, but like a drop of ink in water.

It starts off small and spreads through me, and by the time the ink has diffused to fill the vessel, I can’t ignore it anymore. That’s what I’ve been giving to my characters: these blooming feelings of dread, fear, knowing.

Tonight as I read that line about an answer blooming, I had to stop and think about it. I reached into my desk drawer to grab a Post-It note to mark my page (I am reviewing a printed copy of my manuscript). I have no idea why or where this came from, but there is glitter in my desk drawer. Green glitter. I pulled the note out and on my hand, a bloom of glitter sparkled in the lamplight.

So I had to stop and blog about it.

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