Most of you know that I am trying to complete my second novel, Ryan’s Letters (the sequel to Larkin’s Letters), but it has been difficult to get myself into a steady groove. I feel like I am in a “sophomore slump”. I can most certainly blame it’s slow process to lack of time. Working full-time and being a mother to a toddler do not give me many opportunities to be able to sit down for a couple of hours at a time to write. I have myself a new laptop so now I can sit in bed at night after my son goes to bed which should definitely help expedite this process.
The other reason I feel that I am in this slump is that of fear. Fear that it won’t be as good as the first. I have received so many positive reviews of Larkin’s Letters, so I feel that the second one needs to be better. I am afraid that I will let the people who are looking forward to it’s sequel down. I second guess every little thing that I write and think to myself that I can do better. But then I think about how I felt when I was writing the first one: thinking that I would NEVER get published. Thinking it’s not good enough. And asking myself who would like this? I could go on and on. And then I remember that it was good enough to be published, so why can’t this one be?
I have a finally found a new burst of motivation to finish (a shiny new laptop certainly helps!), and I wanted to give those of you who have read, supported, and enjoyed Larkin’s Letters an excerpt from Ryan’s Letters. It’s not a big excerpt, but hopefully it is one that you will enjoy. I have had a couple of people tell me that they are very interested to see how I am going to write a sequel, and I am very excited to see the response I get when it is finished. I intend to write another blog entry in the next couple of days explaining why I felt it necessary to continue this story. Until then, here is that brief excerpt I promised.
Dear Blue Eyes,
In your letters, you wrote to me that time heals what reason cannot. There was and there never will be a reason as to why you were taken from me. A reason as to why your life was ended so short. I wish you could have told me how much time. Because I feel like there will never be enough time for me to completely heal.
I still look for you. I long to see your blue eyes among the stars as they decorate the night sky. I long to see your smile among the waves as they crash against the grains of sand at my feet. I long to hear your voice, my lullaby, among the crackling of the flames that burn from the bonfire as I sit here writing to you.
It has been eight months since you have been taken from me, and I haven’t written to you since I wrote to you after I finished reading your letters. But something happened to me today, and I don’t know how else to deal with it except to write to you. I took the boat out on the back bays to fish early this morning where nobody else was around, and all I could think about was dying. About all the different ways someone can die. For me, I think drowning would be one of the worst ways to die — gasping for air as your lungs slowly fill with water, your body being pulled under by the unforgiving rip currents. Even so, it’s how I would want to go. I grew up surrounded by the ocean. Most of my childhood was spent in the water. I am at peace on the water. I spread your ashes over the water. It’s where you are, so it’s where I want to be.
As I was waiting for the fish to bite, I saw your reflection on the water. I couldn’t help but feel that you were calling for me. That something was wrong and you needed me. I couldn’t help but jump into the water; into your reflection. I felt the rip current pull me down, and you know that I know how to swim against the rip currents. But I didn’t try. I just let the current take me. Take me into your reflection. But then I saw you. I felt you. I don’t know why I keep thinking that you still need me. I saw you that night on the beach, the night I spread your ashes. You were happy. You were safe. You were healthy. I know that you do not need me anymore. I thought I was trying to save you. But I now realize, that all along, you were trying to save ME.
My dearest Larkin.