|I'm back in the flow.|
After a bit of a break I'm back writing some original material. I have two works on the go right now, plus I'm doing a hard-copy edit of BloodLovers.
I'm not sure what either WIP is really about yet. It's an odd thing to say as I am their creator, but I mean they haven't clarified themselves to me yet.
A few days ago I finally got a proper idea for a story that first occurred to me last fall. I let it rest as I was busy with something else.
I started it twice and let it go. Last week I realized I'd started the story too early and my character names were all wrong.
I'm more than 1800 words in on The Font. Another reason for abandoning it was it was stepping over the line into horror. It's leaning that way again. Instead of resisting I'll go with it and see what comes out. It may not want to tread there at all.
The other is The Reluctant Psychopomp. A psychopomp is a being who escorts the dead to the afterworld.
The reluctant part hasn't made itself known yet. All I can do is write and see what happens.
I worked on The Font yesterday morning, edited BloodLovers in the afternoon, and added a bit to the psychopomp's story last night.
It was a good day of work and I still found time to read. I started Lolita on Sunday. I bought it 30 years ago and for whatever reason I didn't read it. I think I may have read the first page, then set it aside. I'm kind of glad I waited. I'm not sure I would have appreciated Nabokov's rich use of the language back in my twenties.
Here are two from Vladimir Nabokov's Lolita, (Berkley Books, 1981):
"Last night we sat on the piazza, the Haze woman, Lolita and I. Warm dusk had deepened into amorous darkness."
And from The Font:
"The Mother faced them holding up a long, thin object that reminded Brundel of the knife her father used for deboning meat and fish.
What were they doing? This was a casting ceremony."
Thank you for stopping by. For more or to get in on the fun please see the Women of Mystery.