Yeah, you heard me. It’s Fantasy Time, and I’m ready for it.
No, really: I could use a good fantasy. I would love to sink into something right about now and let it engulf me, pick me up and take me away to another place. Maybe I’ll help fund this Kickstarter. She looks like a nice woman, and I could use someone to worship.
If you hadn’t noticed, I’m in a better mood today. Maybe it’s the sleep and the thunderstorms that helped me get there. Maybe it’s the coffee–damn good coffee. Maybe it’s the sun shining.
I haven’t the faintest. All I know is I want to get into my story today. I might not finish it, but I know where I want to take it. Into the sexy . . . yeah, that’s the ticket.
Of course, it helped that Albert turned down the lighting inside his ship, and that there’s nothing but the blackness of space beyond the window, with stars not twinkling beyond. It’s a good setup, and Meredith’s going to take advantage of the situation . . . naughty girl.
Yes, it’s writing time. It’s time to make the fantasies comes alive.
Would I want to be in a spaceship with someone nice, all alone, no one around for at least three hundred thousand kilometers? Depends on the person. If it’s any of the numerous gaming trolls I’ve known off and on for years, I’d probably space them just to watch the expression on the face change. If it was something a little nicer and softer–hummm, that’s a hard one to decipher . . .
This is the part I enjoy. The research is fun–I have to get cracking on it for my next NaNoWriMo novel, because it’s going to be a follow-up to something I’ve already written–the waiting, as I mentioned yesterday, is the suck. You need to do both, however, and in-between these suckers there is the laying down of words and the creating of stories.
Why the change from “Oh, I’m Mr. Depression, This Writing Stuff Blows!”? Can’t say. Maybe it was the interview I was writing up last night. I was too tired to do anything creative, but I had this interview I needed to finish, so I got into it. And there were questions, and some things I had to think about . . . and dammit, when I began thinking about the very small amount I’ve published (two things, count ‘em!), and I thought about what I do have out there, waiting for the thumbs up, I realized, “Yeah, that’s some good stuff, why you gettin’ down on yourself?”
‘Cause it’s in my nature to be a pain in my own ass from time to time. It’s how I stay honest. It’s good for the ego to realize, you aren’t the bloody queen all the time, mate. You’re like everyone else in this game: you wait, you get up . . . you get down.
You then dust yourself off and keep on going.
There is a simple fact: I ain’t givin’ this shit up. I’m going to keep going. There may be times when I don’t feel like going on, but I’m going to do it. Because, what’s the alternative? Do something I really hate, and leave behind the legacy of people saying, “Oh, yeah, Ray had promise: too bad he was such a quitting, freakin’ loser.”
Time to move on. Time to make those fantasies real.