Home Again

I had a great trip to the White Mountains of New Hampshire. It was rejuvenating to be there and concentrate on something new. 

I spent my time writing and doing research, and I made some nice breakthroughs in this new book.  I know I'm probably taking on too much in this first draft, but that's why there's a second draft!  And a third, and a fourth. . . . right now, too much is fine.  Sometimes I need to get to the end of a book to know what I actually needed to get there. 

I had a beautiful room in an old inn.  I drove the local roads and took lots of photos. I even took photos of odd things that may or may not end up in the descriptions in the book:  a fancy doorknob, a driveway, a split staircase, and a weathervane.  I read about the history of the area:  the scoundrels and daredevils, the hotel kings and families--the tragedies and accomplishments of people who left their names and stories here.

How fast the weather changes.  Twice, I left Bartlett in blue-sky sunshine only to find myself in a swirling, fierce snow squall a handful of miles later in Crawford Notch.  Nature turns on you there.  Having experienced that awful wondering whether it was more dangerous to push on or more dangerous to go back, I think some of those first homesteaders must've been part-time crazy. 

And that's exactly what interests me. :-)