It has been one crazy week. I apologize for the lack of content, but moving into a new apartment is very time consuming. It’s also difficult to add content without wifi. Darn internet companies never work when you need them to. All that is in the past, though. Now, we’re back online!
This week I want to talk about my upcoming thesis project. I am writing a creative, fiction thesis for my Senior year of undergrad. The goal? 50-60 well written and thoroughly revised pages of a manuscript that I can turn into a novel after graduation.
The fall semester starts on Monday, and so does my work on this thesis. I’m excited by the opportunity to write a longer work since most of my college classes ask for less than twenty pages of story for each assignment. With a whole year to craft this beast, I have a higher page count.
My idea? I’m attempting to write a fiction novel based off events in my grandmother’s life. She comes from a family of 15 children, born in and around the time of the great depression and WWII. They lived in a small country home in the Eastern hills of Virginia, since then they have expanded far and wide. From the original group of 15 siblings, they had 36 children total themselves, and those children have had families of their own. It’s a staggering number of family members, somewhere in the range of 100-120. We all keep in good contact, especially with the help of Facebook. There has to be a story somewhere in this multigenerational brood of Virginia natives.
Interested in hearing more? Here is my idea for the opening lines. Leave comment, and let me know what you think. Obviously, revision is in my future:
“Your accent returns the closer you get to home. We all knew it. And, every year we took planes, trains, and automobiles to go home to the foothills of Virginia. The accents, sweet like honey, dripped from our tongues as if they had our whole lives. A little bit of East coast thickness and a little bit of Southern twang. It made us say ‘wuter’ instead of water or tell people we lived in ‘mawnroe’ instead of Monroe. Even the little ones, who hadn’t grown up in Altavista, caught accents sneaking in they hadn’t known they possessed”
Short and sweet this Wednesday, but I’m still getting back into routine. Hang in there Bookworms and keep reading xx