A few weeks ago, an online friend I’ve never met, author Gail Kittleson, and I decided we wanted to co-author a book. No idea what, it just sounded like a fun idea. As we chatted back and forth through email, I suggested a cozy mystery. And so it was.
Gail started it off with a chapter or two, and I picked it up from there, and, well . . .
So. In Gail’s first scene, she has our female protagonist ruminating about Easter hats, or more precisely, one hat in particular. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
The story is set in small-town northern Iowa, in June, in the closing years of WWII, making it a historical. Now I’m not good with writing historical fiction, so I’m leaving all that to Gail.
Now, where was I? Oh, yeah. When I read ‘Easter hats’ … um, Gail, we have a problem. So, we changed it to April, of course.
The writing exchanges, edits, and additions became intense over the past week or so, and our scenes and writing-to-date, have ended on Easter Day.
This past Sunday was Palm Sunday. Next Sunday is Easter Sunday. Coincidence?
Nope. All rough these past few weeks . . . in fact, probably from the very beginning . . . God has been directing our collective writing paths, bringing us right into the middle of this Holy Week.
I wonder where He’ll direct us from here?