I have a setting. I have a few characters, though only one of them has a voice right now. I have the seeds of what might become a situation. I have a head full of ideas, which I’m hoping will intersect in meaningful–in interesting–ways.
I have lists of things I don’t yet know. Some of them I can research. Some I need to find in other ways.
I have a sense of overarching tone, of mood. Except even as I write, that’s changing.
I have a fear that there may not be a there there. I know well enough that I’m trying to create something out of nothing. I know, because I’ve done it before, that this can be done. I don’t know how it will be done this time. If it will be done this time. I don’t know, really, whether I’ll ever finish a book again.
I am taking a leap of faith. I am terrified.
I am having fun.