I’m obsessed with the number three. A lot of artists are. I’m convinced Jim Croce was. His songs break down that way a lot, and the lyrics follow a rhythm I respond to on an instinctive level, long before I know why. Snippets of Croce music have always been there for me, when I’ve needed them, and they converged while I wrote Love on Mimosa Lane, being there for my hero, who I was at times having a hard time seeing.
Law Beaumont was a bad boy (hence the Leroy Brown initials), but he’s not anymore. But who is he. He has no clue. Except he’s an honorable man doing his best to raise his daughter, feeling responsible for how badly her young life had turned out so far. But he’s going to keep walking that tough, winding road, not yet living a hidden dream, but he will be (say that in Yoda’s voice, it’ll mean more to you)…because leading characters to their dreams (more on that soon) and setting them free from the past, so they can thrive, is my pattern. I do it in threes, too, I’ve discovered over these last three books (more on that soon, too).
“If it gets me nowhere, I’ll go there proud…”
Not having pride about trying hard and failing is a good thing, until you let it distance you from dreams that have more to do with thriving than they do surviving. My survivor of a hero has lost sight of that at the beginning. We all have, once or twice in our lives, at least I have. We forget who we once were–we forget our “name” as it where.
And so, the first “third” of Love on Mimosa Lane got the working section title, “I Have a Name.” Law finds himself, who he was before it all went to hell, because it’s the only way to really help his daughter. Taking his identity back from all the damage and failures and mistakes is the only way to unchain himself and his child from their hold. It’s the only way any of us do, really.
“Moving ahead so life won’t pass me by. I’m gonna go there free…”
I’ve told you Law as a musician, right? That’s how he thinks of it. It’s who he was, not who he is now. Except, when Kristen comes into his life, when he allows her in after staring at her from a distance (in a sexy-as-hell, non-creepy way), so does his music. His creativity. His voice. His soul. She unlocks the parts of him he gave up to survive. She won’t let him be only what he thinks he’s become. She sees who he is and doesn’t let him off the hook about it, because to have her, he’ll have to be more than broken–she’s come from too much brokenness herself, to settle for that kind of half-life, and she’s just as good (better?) at protecting herself as he is.
And, so, the second third of Law and Kristen’s story happened with the working title, “I Have a Song.” Read the rest of this entry »