Well...I've gone through the nearly 1000 double-spaced pages of A Place of Safety and now have everything in my head as to what is needed, where. Lots of sticky-notes. Red pen corrections and comments. The usual crap. All three binders are on my table and I'm amazed at how much I've finally been able to do.
What's got me going closer on the story, a bit, is how the current political situation in the US so closely parallels Northern Ireland's. A group of radical politicians are trying to maintain power through lies, tricks, questionable legal maneuvers, threats, favoritism and intimidation...and I do NOT mean the Democrats. I haven't voted for a Republican in the US since 1980, and that one was John Anderson, who was running against Reagan for the GOP nomination. When it was handed to Ronnie Ray-gun, he left the party and so did I. I could see the writing on the wall, and damned if it hasn't come true, in spades...
Sometimes I wonder if that's part of the reason this story got going. I've been working on it for decades. A lot of time was wasted with me telling myself I couldn't do it because it's set in a part of the world I may have visited but never lived in and, honestly, I don't think I'll ever make it sound right for someone from Derry. I've even had people tell me it's not possible, but still I kept coming back to it. So I've finally accepted that I'm to be the author of this tale and am just telling it as best I can.
I have no idea why Brendan stuck with me through all the years of worry and fear and ridiculousness, but he did...and it's slowly moving towards being completed. I won't have it done this year, I know that, but next year...yes. 2022.
That will be a cause for celebration!
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