Why Are There So Many Falcons in My Life?

The first falcon I noticed had a mouse riding on its back. The mouse’s name is Soma, and she’s the heroine of one of the books I’m writing (I know, a mouse? Really? I hear that critic too). Years ago I told my children this story, conjuring it out of the fog of double-toddler bedtime. It’s straight brainstem shit, my smart brain was crying in the shower I think. In 2019 I wrote this story down, shat out 150,000 words of my first fiction, loved every second of it, and decided this is what I wanted to do. Then Covid, and you know. I’m on my “second draft,” but it’s really an entirely new first draft. So falcons. Soma’s late mother was the Queen of the mice and her moniker is “The Falcon.” Soma lives under the shadow of the legend of her late mother, referring to herself as “The Guppy” by comparison. When writing it, I thought for sure this Ann Lamontesque seizure would be met with red. But it persists, like a tiny ember slowly burning through your jeans and touching your thigh. There it is! <a href="https://medium.com/the-haven/why-are-there-so-many-falcons-in-my-life-1b6870e91240">Website</a>