I’ve been so busy dedicating myself to the task of the NaNoWriMo November Challenge, that I have neglected writing here, on WordPress. I am so caught up in the whirl of the contest that I can hardly stand it. I am having a blast with this new adventure and while I recognize that this may not be a successful endeavor, somehow it just doesn’t matter. This is a first attempt at an actual story, and that in and of itself is an amazing feat for me.
I have a couple of teaser paragraphs to share today. This novel began as potentially a historical piece of fiction – creative non-fiction if you will. Here is my synopsis:
Historical fiction with a backdrop in Norway during the years leading up to and through WWII; people’s lives are affected by forces outside the country and within their own families which pull and sway them in varying directions. Relationships are tested between parent and child, best friends and lovers. Consequences result and families are divided. The novel explores various facets of life in Norway during the war, the occupation, victims who fear the outcome, fighters who take up the cause, individuals who turn to religion to cope, instigators who float from simple politics to becoming traitors. Relationships and war. A messy business.
Then somehow- I found myself writing a little entry piece that looked like this:
The unforgiving wind whipped her cheeks and slashed her arms as she lay bare skinned under the chill of a February sky. Her dark mocha curls had long lost their spring since soaked from the waves lapping up onto her on the shore. It could still be quite a while until someone happened upon her in this isolated bay in the middle of winter. Perhaps a hardcore fisherman who ignores the harshness of the season. This abandonment had been well planned to give plenty of time for the elements to do their thing. There would be little left of her by the time the authorities became involved.
Ok that was sombre… and, then a description of an encounter with strong tinges of romance:
Vidar played in the Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra that had been scheduled to accompany the school choir at the yearly spring concert. Nina met him for the first time for her solo performance practice session the evening before the concert. Nina had been practicing for months with her own choir but this was the first time she would actually experience accompaniment by a professional violinist. Vidar was six years her senior, towered above her with his viking features of thick and wavy flaxen hair and green eyes. She, with her azure blue eyes and ivory skin offset by her silky dark chocolate waves that cascaded down past her shoulders. She was breathtaking to him. He found himself completely and utterly in love with her at first sight and sound. Her soft and pure soprano voice mesmerized anyone in ear shot, and when she sung the first stanza of “Solveig’s Song by Edvard Grieg” he was completely captured. When her voice rose up into the higher octaves, the entire orchestra which was paused for the solo performance as well as anyone that might have been busy in the wings of the stage preparing for concert night, came to a complete stop. Afterwards, he could think of nothing else but her until the next day when they met once again for the actual concert performance. That night, when she performed, he was transfixed by her beauty. He had never seen any woman as delicate and pure; she wore a simple white strapless gown and a fresh garland of white daisies mixed with baby’s breath which adorned her crown. Soft tendrils of wavy brown hair caressed her tiny shoulders. Her blue eyes sparkled as she seemed on top of the world. You could sense that she truly in her element, where she was meant to be – on this stage, in front of this audience and with him by her side. Her gentle demeanor was almost timid and she exuded humility in her talents. She was not haughty but blessed with this voice that reached into the soul and brought peace and joy all at the same time. This physical and musical beauty created such a passion within him that he found himself playing the violin as if the violin itself was Nina cradled in his arms. It was a challenge for him since she was under age. She only had four months left until her eighteenth birthday. They had only a few exchanges before and after the concert, but he sensed that the attraction was mutual. As the concert had come to an end, he then committed to writing to her regularly in order to nurture this flame that he knew existed between them both and which he had never experienced before. He felt this mutual attraction was still very immature and knew he would have his work cut out for him since she lived down south of Stavanger and she was busy with her school work as well as the farm chores. Somehow, he would do everything in his power to make a lifetime commitment to this amazing young woman- a reality.
So what is this? Where am I headed? I have no idea – well, ok- I sort of have an idea, a general game plan but most of it is unfolding before my eyes and it is so much fun!! Maybe one day, this deep urge to write and write and writes will produce something worthwhile. For now, I am not worrying myself too much about form or style or content. I am not concerned that I am doing this right or wrong. Rather, I am just getting to know a few people on the page – and so far, these people are interesting to me and fun to be around.
A Lullaby For Sofie 