After a week it feels good to sorta get back on my feet. Though the issue of getting a new bed lay ahead, and that’s a bit of a bummer, but it’s not something that one can’t surmount.
Finally, though, I’m getting back into the swing. I can’t say that coming down with a killer cold just as a story of mine was being released for publication was great timing–it wasn’t. At least I wasn’t doing something like a book tour or even a public signing. ”Hi, would you like me to sign your ebook?” Right on. Not to mention . . . I’ve been working on making my signature look like something less than a dying caterpillar and more like something a real person would make. It’s slow going, but it’s almost, sorta, kinda coming alone.
I’m editing, and it’s coming along very well–again. Now that I’ve been in “print” twice, I’m eager to get more. I’m also eager to get something like, oh, cash coming into the coffers very soon. It’s nice to see yourself on Amazon, but it’s nicer to see your ranking as something a little higher than #256,665 for the week. It’ll happen; it just takes time.
Something struck me about the edit I was doing last night, however. Jeannette, the main character of Demonic Majesty, is something of a geeky loner. It’s said that while she has friends, there’s something she doesn’t have–love. There’s really never been anyone in her life.
The same thing with a few of my other characters. Albert and Cytheria, from Transporting and Echoes, had lives that were a bit devoid of affection and love–though, in Echoes, you discover that Albert’s situation might have been just a little different. There were a lot of reasons for that, but still: they both went for a very long time without anyone on their respective lives.
The older I get, the more “right” in the mind I become (and I don’t mean becoming “normal” normal, but more like getting better mental illness-wise), the more I crave a touch, a look . . . something to affirm to oneself that they are adored, that they are wanted, that they are desired. At the end of Transporting, it looked as if Albert and Cytheria both found what they wanted–which was for them to hear, every day, that they are not just loved, but the love felt for them is beyond comprehension.
As someone once told me, “You deserve to have someone tell you, every day, that you are loved.” And as I told that person, “You deserve the same.”
There are a lot of stories about being alone, a lot of songs about a singular lack of love in one’s life. These days, I can’t see the point. I can’t move in that direction, because it leaves one with nothing but emptiness. Jeannette discovers something about herself in Demonic Majesty, though it doesn’t get examined that much in the novel. I do hope to pull it out in later works–oh, yes. I want later works. Many later works.
Maybe that means it’s time to work on the story of a One True Pairing–
Because love should be written and enjoyed, not locked up and frozen.