Since my completion of the synopsis, I have started back sending out queries on my finished novel The Oyster King.
Today, as I was perusing my files I came across this original start of my story. Nothing in the writing below survived the cut and editing process. However, what it did do was set the tone of my main character. Without writing these words below, I wouldn’t have begun to understand him as well as I did. Actually the words below were the spark for the entire story.
Much like in life, when writing fiction sometimes the road you think you are going to take is not the one you end up on. The finished product has some of these details woven into the backstory, but while it didn’t survive the cut, if it wouldn’t have been for these first few words. The story would never have existed in the first place.
The moral of my story is: Be willing to let your writing take you on a journey where it wants to go. And don’t be so caught up in where you think it should go. Allow it to live and breathe and have a life of its own. You will find oftentimes your original vision is not the final outcome.
So here was the spark that created the novel that is The Oyster King.
I was born blind and deaf to a mother who wasn’t ready to have children in the first place. Maybe that’s why after seeing me for only seconds, and never even touching me, she sent me away with orders to the nurse to never bring me back.
At just three months old I began to gain my hearing and eyesight. The doctors told my adoptive parents they suspected I had some kind of rare abnormality that caused my vision and hearing to come in late, after birth. They never could figure exactly what it was so they labeled it a “rare abnormality.” But the Abbots had always told me that God had given me the gift of hearing and vision a few months late, in order to test the strength of my birthmother and when she failed God had found a suitable family for me. For at just two weeks old, the Abbots had taken me home and named me Jayson because it meant healer and I had healed the pain they carried from not having children of their own.