The Long Weekend is over, and now we have the effects of stumbling through a four-day work week, that will see most people spending today playing catch up, and/or just taking it easy. Which means, in teams of really doing anything this week, that not a hell of a lot will get performed.
Welcome to the Summer.
Other than this plugged up right ear, I’m doing well. Tired, but okay. Back to my grind today, though I’m really considering calling off, because–well, why not? Work has become a big shit-giving exercise, and it’s getting harder and harder every day. After returning to The Undisclosed Location last night–and fighting a strong wind the whole way–I remarked that I don’t like it here, and going home on the weekend seems to be a case of doing a lot of nothing when there.
Today I just want to get through the day. I have something lined up for after work, and I want to make it to that in one piece. Then get through that, come home, maybe get have my rent money together (I have to pay by money order, which is also the suck), chat a little . . . then into the writing.
I did my edits on Her Demonic Majesty, and started working on Part Two of Diners at the Memory’s End yesterday. One is almost done, and the other is just beginning, and both stories have completely different feels. But then, I’d expect that, because one deals with a person fighting for their life, then taking control of their destiny, and the other . . .
Yesterday’s post was all about how difficult it was getting Part One written, but last night, when I was writing Part Two, the words flowed smoothly. On the trip down, I saw the scene in a very different way. Original I thought the conversation taking place, as it had in the first draft of the story, in the dining room of the house that Cytheria and Albert share. Instead, I wanted something a lot more . . . relaxed.
They both live in a huge building called the Land’s End Arcology. It not so much a building, however, as it is a large structure carved out of a enormous cliff that rises almost two kilometers over the surrounding plain. Cytheria and Albert live along The Wall, the area where dwellings have an outside view of the world–or, in the case of Cytheria’s dwelling, hang right off the outside wall, with nothing but a kilometer and a half of emptiness below them.
The scene takes play not in the dwelling, but down the corridor in a setting of cafes for the locals to stop and relax. Since is a bit after five o’clock in the morning, Cytheria wanders down to the local cafe in her nightgown, and meets Albert, who’s already been there a little over an hour. And when I left they, they were alone, drinking tea, all relaxed, and getting ready to talk about why they were wide awake (but not dreaming, ha!) at such an early time of the morning.
That’s for tonight. I know what they’ll say, and how they’ll say it. All I gotta do is write it, and Part Two will be finished.
Two down, fourteen to go.
Isn’t storytelling fun?