Moving right along...

I'm up to the People's Democracy March from Belfast to Derry at the beginning of 1969. I feel a bit like I skated through the last few chapters, but we'll see how this part goes. I've already reworked it and set it down many times, so this may be pretty much where it belongs. Oh, and this image shows the type of home Brendan is living in, at the moment.

A sub-theme that seems to be developing is Brendan wondering about his father's past. He knows very little about it other than he came from Belfast and was in an orphanage run by the church. And that it scarred the man in some way. He knows his father can weave elegant stories, but that's only because he was told so by one of his drinking buddies. Da never weaves the stories for his kids.

Not sure where that's going, yet. It just popped up and I'm sure the meaning will come to me, later. Right now, it's just the brutality of the man that matters, and Brendan's resentment of him and happiness that he's gone.

Something else that's worked in is Ma's fanaticism about cleanliness. Which becomes another problem between him and her because he just doesn't think about it and can wind up dirty without even trying, thanks to the repairs he does. He begins paying more attention when he sees Joanna for the first time and realizes he's filthy from having fixed a car.

I still don't feel like I have the tone or attitude or whatever of Derry, yet, but it's getting there. I think. Maybe after the next two drafts.

I've had friends tell me I'm never going to let go of this story...and they may be right. It could be my White Whale...or Winchester House. Who knows?