Beginning a sketchbook after completing Sea Horses in the Olive Jar led to unexpected insights about the characters. The bulk of the book was written years ago, then left dormant when I couldn’t find the ending. Returning to it after so much time, reading passages I had forgotten, gave me fresh eyes. I chuckled at jokes I didn’t remember writing and saw how the stories wove together in ways I hadn’t fully recognized before.
Sketching Gypsy made me see her more clearly—especially in the harsh light of the drawing, as she really was. Love, or perhaps the idea of love, can blur reality, casting everything in a softer glow. It’s interesting how someone’s physical form can become almost nonexistent when you believe you see into their soul—or maybe only see a reflection of yourself there.
This isn’t a book about crows, per se. Crows are simply the vehicle—allowing me to explore ideas, emotions, and conversations that, if written with human characters, might never have surfaced from my subconscious. Gypsy, in particular, remains a puzzle—both to Walter and to the reader. She is left open to interpretation, as all the most intriguing characters are.
