So I'm working on Chapter Two of my new manuscript and I'm going to let you in on a little secret: I don't know what's going to happen next. But one thing I do know: I am having fun.

Sometimes, writing feels to me like mining. I'm in this cave and I can't see too far ahead, but I am digging away, and getting somewhere... at least I hope I am.

I'll admit it's a bit of a weird way to work. My plan, at this point (plans do change), is to write the first three chapters in this mining-sort-of-way. Then I'm going to let my editor at Orca have a look. If she likes it (I'm hoping she will), she'll probably ask me for a chapter outline. Then I'll get grumpy. (Can you tell I've been through this process before?) But then I'll stop being grumpy and I'll figure out the darned plot (loosely anyhow). But as I've said, all this is subject to change, so if you want to know what happens, check this blog over the next few weeks to find out.

These days, if I'm not writing or puttering in the garden or making supper, I'm on the couch reading. Did I tell you that I read Tim Wynne-Jones's novel The Maestro on the train home from London, Ontario last week? Most enjoyable! And I even underlined a line from it for you, dear blog reader since I'm always thinking of you!

Here goes: "A cold, thin, distant sound as sweet as blackberries before they're quite ripe." In this sentence, Burl, the novel's narrator, is describing beautiful music he hears in the distance. What I like most about the line is how Tim combines two senses: sound and taste. The link is that both the sound of the music and the taste of the blackberries are sweet. Lovely, no? For me, reading something wonderful is an important part of the writing process: it inspires me to reach higher, to stretch further in my own work. Hope whatever you are doing, you're reaching and stretching, too!