I’m feeling like all the elements of my story on trafficking are coming together. I can taste the end. It’s not here, but the nearness of it is making me edgy.
Even though it’s just the first draft and there will be many revisions to come, I’m anxious. Fretful. For a whole lot of reasons.
Paramount, is the story good enough? Does it hold together? Do I do the subject matter justice? Do I push it forward? Are people who read this book going to look around their lives and see things in a different light?
The end of every book I’ve written has almost paralized me, created that feeling of edginess. For a lot of reasons. First, I fall in love with the characters. Even beyond my continuing characters, there are those who I’m not likely to see again.
This book especially.
I will miss Jayla. She’s brilliant and compassionate and inspiring. She’s wise beyond her fifteen years. Even with the harsh cruelty she experiences, I know she’ll come out a victor. And retain her core. She’s the young girl who, in reality, has gone missing from Aurora in the last few weeks. She breaks my heart.
I will miss Alexis. She’s the brash, 17-year old rich girl from the suburbs. Probably more than any of my girls in this book, she’s learned the most. Money isn’t the answer, and her attitude of entitlement isn’t going to get her out of the mess she’s in. She’s gonna struggle and have years of therapy. None of it her fault.
And finally there’s Olivia. She’s twelve. Wants to be a veterinarian. Livvy is the kid who lives next door to you. I’m not sure yet how she’s going to come out, but I do know she has a family who loves her.
It’s all better with friends.