What a difference over a decade makes…

Maturity has a strange way of creeping up on us.  It’s not a always a series of conscious decisions through which we change into the people we become.  It’s often a subtle change in nature.  Mostly we detect it how we got about our plans on the weekends or what we decide to spend our money on.

This morning, I’m seeing the great changes I’ve gone through as a writer.  I finally caved and decided to return to the source material for my first detective novel, On A Darkling Plain, as I begin going about writing the long over due second draft.  I can tell very quickly how much my writing has changed since I first started writing it back in 1997.  At that time I was reading almost nothing but Robert B. Parker’s Spenser novels to where my vision became quite skewed and my characters and writing style were far too derivitive.  I had actually given some of what I had to an English professor I admired and he had even said it was derivitive.  For some reason I took it as a compliment instead of using it to improve my work.

I actually find myself getting a little embarassed as I read through these pages written almost a lifetime ago.  I had created a character that was far too much an amalgam of the down-and-out gumshoe and the glorified, worldly Spenser.  I know I did a much better job with the character when I wrote Our Own Devils but now I have to lay that groundwork here, like I’ve already built the house and now I’m pouring the foundation.

Aye, caramba…

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