Four chapters in, maybe nine days of writing, and Suggestive Amusements is already ten thousand five hundred words–and I’ve not even finished the fourth chapter. Yeah, another novel. How droll.
After the feeling I had on Friday where I couldn’t muster enough strength to write one sentence, I’ve been cranking out a thousand words a night without a problem. It’s been an enjoyable story to write, though that can change before the story is over. But for the moment, the story is flowing, and the words are coming fast and furious.
Not only that, but the character seem fun. Or at least a lot more playful than my characters of the past. Or maybe . . . I just need a break from characters who whom I have a severe emotional attachment, and deal with those who aren’t that close to me.
Particularly my muse. In the story she comes across as someone who loves to break the sexy, but who is both playful and mean at the same time. She likes attention, she loves imagination, she hates slackers. Humm . . . sounds like a muse I know personally.
There is a scene coming up, one that will be my first dip into the light erotica that will permeate the story–and which won’t be so light as the story continues. In a couple of chapters I’m going to up that stuff a few notches, and as I crawled out of bed this morning, I came up with a fantasy image that pretty much grabbed my shoulders and shook me, yelling, “Yeah, this is what you have to put in your story!” I liked it as it played through my mind, and I think when I get to the point where it needs to be included, that’s what I’m going to write.
Or maybe not. That’s the thing about stories, or at least my stories: I have a space in the story, and I have some words on a card indicating what should be said. But when it comes to the saying, that’s up to me. What I like this morning may not be what I like in a few weeks. Or I’ll just modify what I imagined this morning, and . . . well, we’ll see, won’t we?
More than a couple of my last stories, this one is pretty light. Not to say there won’t be any drama, but it’s not to be the main focus of things. There are no ghosts to chase, no monsters to defeat, no love triangles in the future to put behind one. It’s a story about people, and about a person who it one part magic, one part task mistress, and one part . . . hey, I’m not giving everything away, you know. Read the story when I’m finished.
This is very likely going to be a self publish, though I can think of a couple of places I can send it that might pick it up. That’s also as “We’ll see,” because I am tempted to make a cover and put it up myself. Waiting is such a pain in the ass, and I’m tired of waiting.
It’s time for the doing.