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As some of you know, I’ve been writing my first novel. It’s titled “Days with Indigo” at the moment, but may change. I doubt it, but one never knows. A great alternative title may smack me in the face as I’m writing that I didn’t think of! But, for now, that’s what it will be called as far as I’m concerned.

So, I’ve gotten up to 22 chapters. Part 1 was chapters 1 through 10, and part 2 is chapters 11 through 22. I’m not going into it thinking each part will be a certain number of chapters. I’m just going and seeing where it takes me.

What I didn’t expect is to have a sudden realization this morning that I so obviously should have seen. To give an example, the main characters are Chloe and Indigo. Chloe is in a wheelchair and Indigo helps to take care of her. You can probably already see the realization now. Anyway, in the above picture, my Mimi (Grandmother) is in the wheelchair. That’s me, bad 80′s hair and all, on the couch. It didn’t hit me that I, in fact, was Mimi’s Indigo. I had been writing from Chloe’s perspective and didn’t really think about myself being Indigo. This isn’t to say that the book is about me and my grandmother. Not at all. I just found certain characteristics to be similar, and the presence of the wheelchair, of course. It’s like that old saying that says something like “if you want to hide something, put it in plain sight. No one will think to look there.” I wouldn’t have found myself in Indigo at all. War-N saw it, but I didn’t. Weird.

This writing process has been made even more emotional for me lately. I had recently watched a speech by Elizabeth Gilbert on TED.com, sent to me by War-N, and I haven’t wanted to stop writing since! It did me a world of good and I totally got what she meant. Thank you, Miss Gilbert. Ole!

After I finished part 2 yesterday I was so emotionally drained that I couldn’t bare to start part 3 just yet. I had to allow the characters to gel and settle into their current environment before I yanked them back out again and gave them another adventure. They were tired! I know that may sound weird, but that’s how I felt. I needed to feel the sadness and write from that same perspective later today. It has certainly worked.

Not only did I finish part 2 yesterday, but as a wonderfully indulgent mind-numbing treat, I thought I’d watch a movie. I wound up watching Evening and just cried like a baby by myself with Peanut on my lap. I had seen this movie three times before, but I react so differently each time I watch it. I know the story had a lot to do with it. My book, and the movie, make me think of Mimi. I have never gotten over her death, and probably never will. That isn’t to say I haven’t been affected by the other many, many deaths in my family. I most certainly have. But, there’s always a certain person in one’s life that they have a strong connection to. I was always with Mimi as a child and she was my everything. I was fascinated by her and everything she did. To me, there was no one else that could compare. Plus, you know how it is with your parents as a kid. You don’t appreciate what they did, and went through, for you until you are much older. But back then, Mimi was the top for me. I so wish she could be here to read my book when it’s finished. I think she’d like it, and she’d tell me if she didn’t! She wasn’t shy to voice her opinion.

What I have found very bizarre hen writing is that I forget my fingers are doing anything. I almost feel like I’m writing with my mind alone. I get into such a trance while writing that it kinda freaks me out when I go back and read what I’ve written. I think it’s because I can see it so clearly in my mind, as a scene/movie, or whatever you want to call it, and I just know what’s going to happen next. That doesn’t happen as much with lyrics. But it does often happen when performing live or when recording vocals. But this… well this is just fascinating to me as a first time writer. I love this process!

So, when the book is done and the story goes out to other people, I hope they can see the love that it was written with. It is certainly a tribute to loved ones, here and gone, as so many of the things I do are. But, the story is completely its’ own thing. I certainly drew from life to get the richness of the characters. I really don’t think one can write a completely new, fictional character without SOME similarity to someone else. I don’t think it’s possible. And with such wonderful people to draw from in my life, why fight it?

Finally, I hope that wherever Mimi is, she can see me happy and doing what I want to do in life. I often feel her presence and know she’s with me. I’ll always remember walking by the pond in the cemetery, the very same cemetery where her gravestone lies, and knowing she was always right behind me… watching me and keeping me safe. People will come and go, but they are never forgotten.

Much love to everyone, everywhere,

Christa Belle