The Wings Are Spread – Ready to Fly

The Narrung Sagas, Book II: A Dragon Dream (copyright Cage Dunn, 2016)

It will be out soon. Nearly ready to have those dragons spreading their wings and flying in the world, along with Shadow and Pax and . . .

It is the level of anticipation I feel as the project comes to an end. It’s like seeing a child move off into the world as a ‘proper’ adult. Exhilarating. I stand (or sit) breathless, as each stage unfolds, as it gets closer and closer to ‘the end’ and my breath hitches and the last words go on the page.

Well, they’re already there, but the process of ‘now’ – the final editing and proofreading stages, are almost over (almost is a thing that’s a bit flexible: one or two weeks, shrug, or maybe one or two days, who knows?).

It will be what will be; it is what it is.

At the beginning of a new project, it’s excitement of a different lure. Now, near the end, it’s something more profound, a depth of feeling that can only come with the satisfaction of knowing you ‘did good’ for the kid.

We’ll see, on that score, but it feels good; it feels great.

And now I may have to go back to finish off the other major WIPs that have sat in the background, waiting their turn – Again! Like The Third Moment – although it has done some good while it waited – it has been restructured! Not on paper yet – a structure plan on screen and in my head. And that’s a good sign that this one is at or near the end – I’m already dreaming of the next piece, the next life, that comes from story.

And there’s that anthology for The Once Lost – several shorts completed, many more still to be constructed.

And the A-Z of stories (this is the one where I grabbed an interesting word and made a story from it) – should that become another anthology? Am I doing too many shorts?

No. From the shorts come the novels. Truly. An idea comes in a short moment: a scene, a person in a predicament, a moment in time that provokes something, an emotional burn that needs some form of representation.

Each of the shorts could become a longer story, could burst forth like a supaNova, a burst of brilliance and depth – and distance. Once sighted as a long, it must be carefully hooked, brought closer and closer to shore, teased and cajoled into joining in the game of Story.

See, there I go again – off into that world! Bye! [‘cos, first I have to finish what I’m doing, don’t I?]