There are more special places in Jerusalem than you can count. Walking though the Old City, you realize that you could spend a lifetime here and not discover all its secrets. I’ve been to Jerusalem twice now, and it is both familiar and foreign in ways that are very hard to explain.
Today, I went to the Shrine of the Book at the Israel Museum. Now, for you history lovers, you might know this as the home of the Dead Sea Scrolls and other ancient manuscripts. It was my second time visiting, and this time, there was a special interest and significance since I’m writing a book with many ties to historical scribe traditions and their preservation of knowledge. I had intended to do some research on the Essenes who lived in Qumran, the scribes who copied the Dead Sea Scrolls, but I got even more than I had bargained for.
Most of you know I’m a pretty heavy plotter. I usually have the outline for a book and a series ready to go before I start writing the prologue. That said, there are often twists or turns where I can get stuck. And I had. There were several points in the second and third books of the Irin Chronicles that I hadn’t quite worked out. I knew where I was going, but the exact path to get there was a little murky.
Sometimes, it’s a song. Sometimes, it’s silence. Sometimes, all you need to make that leap in your mind is a word or a phrase or a tiny bit of information that jump-starts your imagination.
And today, I got that. So, in the silence of the Shrine, sitting on the steps as people walked around, I was able to plot out that twisty road this trilogy will take. There will still be starts and stops. I’m sure there will be points I need to expand or clarify, but the roadmap is there, so I wanted to let you know. I can’t think of a better place for inspiration to strike.
There’s a short teaser from The Scribe after the cut. I’ll have more in the weeks ahead. I’m very happy to say that I’m over half-way done with the rough draft!
Malachi spotted the Grigori foot soldier at the edge of the bazaar. The man walked slowly through the Egyptian Spice Market, stopping occasionally to examine wares he wouldn’t buy, scanning the crowd for…
Dark curling hair shielded her face, but her figure was slight and quick. The human woman radiated energy, even as she strolled through the cacophony of sounds, sights, and smells that careened through the market in the heart of Istanbul. Vendors yelled out their best bargains as tourists and locals alike sampled the variety of spices, dried fruits, and nuts, but the woman seemed to drift in her own space, blending into the colorful mosaic of the city.
Malachi’s gaze drifted from the woman back to the Grigori soldier. In his mind’s eye, he approached the man quietly, stalking him to a deserted corner, grabbed him without a whisper, and stabbed a sharp blade into the base of his skull, killing the murderous creature and releasing its soul to face judgement before he melted into the crowd, just another traveller at the crossroads of the world.
But Malachi did none of those things that morning. He fought back the instinctual rage and watched the man carefully.
The Grigori was hunting.
More posts to come in the next week when I make my way to Istanbul! I can’t wait.
Thanks for reading, Elizabeth