I can’t remember how old I was when I first made my own little seaport. Young enough to still have a pretty vivid imagination. As I put each building together the town came alive and the stories of its residents grew with the completion of each miniature structure. I called my seaport Vantage, because I envisioned it sitting high on windswept cliffs in Maine or Nova Scotia. Somewhere appropriately stark and austere.
When I decided to participate in my first National Novel Writing Month I turned back to my little town (since packed away in the basement) and once again found inspiration in the lives that could have been lived in each of its buildings: the lighthouse, chandlery, tavern, cooperage, sail loft, and Captain’s house. Now a few years and multiple revisions later I’m still trying to tell those stories in a way I hope my younger self would appreciate.