Those who have been following my weekly musings know that my work-in-progress concerns angels. Lately, I can’t escape them. They’re on top of Christmas trees, twinkling in TV commercials and invoked on evening news stories about good deeds during the holidays. WHEN THE FALLEN ANGELS FLY could be considered a new take on It’s A Wonderful Life, far-derived, I think. But it’s hard to write about angels without lapsing into Christmas associations. It should be a perfect time to complete this project. Even for an atheist like me.
I do maintain a foggy sort of spirituality. I believe in the goodness of people and figure that goodness counts for something in this world or beyond. What it counts for – karma or a higher state of enlightenment, I’m not sure.
Anyway, I’ve been moving through my manuscript a little faster. Now I have a deadline: I have to get the second section of the novel to my writers group by December 21st. This will happen. I’ve only got about twenty pages to re-read and edit. Right now, Richard is preparing written testimony for the arraignment of James Hartsdale, a guy wrongly accused of Richard’s murder.
The book is more about angels with a lower case “a.” There’s fantasy elements for sure, but what inspired me most is the randomness of everyday life, the tragedies and miracles that hit from out of nowhere and how people associate these things with otherwordly phenomenon. I think we’re all capable of being “angels” (as well as “demons”). I meet an angel just about every day. The woman who holds the door open when my arms are full with shopping bags. The co-worker who brings me an iced coffee even when I haven’t asked for it. The cleaning lady who folds the toilet paper roll into a little triangle so that I can fantasize that I’m living in a luxury hotel. So yeah, I’ve caught the holiday cheer bug, and this post is approximating mushiness. It’s the angels on the brain and what the concept entails: love, good will, believing in the impossible.
