This week I am writing about what haunts me in A Year with the Baptists. It’s probably going to be a bloodbath, but I’ve got to be honest: true to the characters, true to the story. I’m afraid of the emotion and discomfort I’m going to have to wade through to get it all down, and yet I know it will make the story that much better.
Here’s the teensiest glimpse into what I’ll be working on this week:
These were Emma’s last moments in the house where she had not only grown up, but also conquered demons. Demons that probably still lurked in dark corners waiting for a weak moment to attack, she considered as she stood in the stair landing, looking into the school room. She shivered at this thought, suddenly filled with fear and an impulse to run downstairs, yet something made her stay planted where she was.