I have ideas coming out of nowhere.
Literally, my mind is filled with ideas for The Fairfield Series. They come to me while I am grocery shopping, trying to sleep, washing dishes, folding laundry, working on my current book, etc etc etc...I am being innundated with plot ideas for this new series I've got brewin.
There was a time, not so long ago, when I thought the idea of a series of books centered around the town of my birth was a stupid idea. Who in the hell was going to want to read a book about a bunch of farmers in a town the size of a postage stamp? I mean, YAWN. But now...with every page I write, I get more and more enthusiastic about it.
There is a charm in small towns that I'd never appreciated before. When I was growing up in Fairfield, I resented it. I wanted out. I wanted to run away and never return. It was too boring, too stifling, too invasive. And now I appreciate it for what it is: Personal, neighborly, intimate. Makes for some pretty interesting books, I'll tell you that. I can't wait.
It's been a long time since I've felt this enthusiastic about a book. Maybe this series will be the one to gain an agents attention? Maybe this will be my foot in the door, so that the Ominous Secret series will eventually be read. Who knows! I like to think so, though.
There is a certain stigma that goes with small towns, and because of this most recent writing adventure, I am honestly starting to see the good in small towns. I happen to live in the city now. Granted, it's not a big city, but it is a city none the less. When my windows are open at night, I hear cars, and trains, and sometimes music. When my kids play outside, I need to watch them closely, so that they don't get kidnapped or hit by a car. When I want something at 3am, I can jet to the store on any corner and get it.
In the small town of my youth, I listened to frogs and crickets at night. And when I wanted to play outside, the entire town and surrounding fields were my playground. I never wore shoes. I literally walked from one end of town to the other, barefoot, completely alone, and my mother never had to worry! And at 5pm, the entire town shut down. We waited until the next day, and a 30 mile car trip, to go and get something. Such a strange existence, compared to my current one.
I am proud of myself for seeing the beauty in something I once considered terribly ugly. I am proud of myself for embracing my small town heritage. Now...I just need to write and sell the darn books!!
Brooke Moss.
