They seemed too meager-spirited, and without any underlayers. I’d begin with the current generation and go back to the parents and then to the parents’ parents, all the way to prehistory if need be.Įxcept it turned out that when I reached the parents’ grandparents, I couldn’t work up enough interest in them. And to guarantee that I wouldn’t have to stop when I reached the present day, I would follow them in reverse. Follow a single family for generation after generation. What to do, therefore? Well, go on writing this one forever-in fact, until I died.
So I decided this one should be my last.īut that meant that once it was done, I’d have nothing more to work on, and work is what keeps me happy. That’s because it was my twentieth, and I worried that people might start to think I was just “churning them out,” as a neighbor of mine once put it. It’s also the only book I planned never to finish writing. A Spool of Blue Thread is the only one of my books that has ever caused me to say, when I reread it many years later, “Oh! Why, this book is actually.
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