Today was a brainstorming day. I’ve had an idea for a while that I wanted to work on, but something seemed missing. I saw my husband’s grandfather the other day, and his interest in military/espionage thrillers every so slightly shifted the focus of my story — in a good direction.
As I played the with the idea driving into work this morning, I’d hoped I could write it before he passed away (stupid cancer), but no.
So, rather sadly, I continued work on the outline. I believe in the story. I believe he would have enjoyed it. I’m writing it anyway. It’s just going to take a little longer.
I adored this man. He not only read my writing, but would refer back to a particular story he’d read years ago. He had a good heart and lived a wonderful life, until cancer stole it from him. If this story makes publication, the dedication goes to him.