Mindmelding Elements

Made it through a good day yesterday, one of the better I’ve had in a while, and today–well, that’s another story.  I’ll get through all the “The Forth Be With You” crap and probably remind more than a few people that my 4^th of May involved hearing about four college students being shot to death.  Yeah, Yoda can bite my ass.

Where to go now, dear Cassidy?  How is your new project coming along?  Glad you asked–

Yesterday also dealt with the upcoming story, because I was talking a few ideas to some people, and though I’ve joked about how I’m going to just “write smut” so I can make a quick buck or two, I still want this to be a good story.  I can’t help it:  even my erotica has to be about more than just fucking.  I’m strange that way.

For example, when I’m talking about the cabin where my story will take place, I bring up a cabin.  What does my cabin look like?  Gander to the right, if you will . . .  I was speaking with Annie (yes, she was around!) and we discussed how sometimes you have to see something in order to describe it.  I’ll admit, I never used to be that way, but when it comes to buildings and apartments and the like, there are times when I need to know how everything is laid out.

I created the interior using Sweet Home 3D, which is a fantastic open source modeling program (check them out, download, and drop them a few bucks for the effort).  I only needed a few simple templates to show me how everything is suppose to look, and with the split screen I can design and get a 3D look at everything in real time.  (One of the great things I liked was as I moved objects onto the design screen, I’d see them moving around in the 3D screen, and if I adjusted then in modeling, they’d adjust in 3D.  It’s like moving furniture in your house, only you’re doing it on a computer with a lot less back strain.)

So now I have a good idea what things sort of look like, so when the action gets hot and heavy, and I need to knock things over because of way too much Sexy happening, I’ll know where the knockage occurs, and how it’s going to break.

It’s not only the look of the story I want right, but I started wondering, late last night, if my mental flow is going the right direction.  So I brought up FreeMind and began mapping out my ideas into something logical.  This is another open source program I use from time to time, when I need to “think” about how I want a scene–or, in this case, a story–to flow.  It’s another great tool if you feel yourself stuck on something and you want to shake your mind loose . . .

I have my thoughts and ideas collected here, as you can see.  I know how to read the flow of the picture to the right, and there are arrows to show me where I need to go from one set of ideas to another.  I’m not finished laying it out all–after all, I was working on this until about eleven-thirty last night, and the eyes were starting to burn a little–but I’ll have it all worked out and into Scrivener by this afternoon.

There was a point last night when two questions came to mind:  one, am I spending way too much time developing a story that’s suppose to be a short (for me), quick, tale of fantasy screwing?  Finally, two:  is there enough hot sex going down?  I mean, yeah, I do erotica, but I also write about characters, and knowing why you wanna get laid is just as important to me as getting there.

Ah, well, perhaps I’m over-thinking this story.  Then again, it is my story–

I can do that if I want to, you know.

Lament of the Lolita

What brings me here today?  Good question.  Because I think my mind is stuck in a number of places today.

I’ve had this idea on my mind for so long now, the one about the story idea I had almost two years ago that never went beyond a five hundred word scene.  Right now it’s in need of a good outlining, as well as some time lining and some technical specs on different things.

Though I’m tempted to say, “I need to work on this right now,” and do it, I know I’m not ready with it.  More thought needs to go into it, more work on the first story outline is required.  There’s nothing wrong with having ideas; there is something wrong if you shoot off half-cocked on a story, and find, halfway through, you have no idea where you’re going.  Good Doctor Asimov said to know your ending before you begin, and I’m getting the ending set up.

I don’t want to start off without an idea of where the journey ends.

I’m somewhat conflicted this day.  I slept very well last night:  I would even go so far as to say I received a great night’s sleep.  But here, at The Hole, I’m spinning my wheels.  I know I’m getting things done, but it doesn’t feel that way.  It feels like I’m off on a race, and I’m going nowhere very quickly.

There are things I want to do, rather than what I should do, and therein lies the conundrum.  Yes, I know the arguments:  you have a job that pays, as opposed to this writing thing that has so far paid you enough to buy you lunch once.

But, hey:  starving artists, you know?  Someone’s gotta do it.

Then there were the strange-ass dreams from last night . . . with this exhaustion starting to go away, the dreams are becoming vivid once more, and the latest was vivid and weird—

The plot seemed to be this:  I was being followed by people I didn’t know, who didn’t want me to do the things I wanted to do.  I wanted to study science; they said I needed to study English.  I wanted to study creative writing; they said I had to study cooking.  I wanted to go to the museum; they said I had to go shopping.

The “me” who was getting all this grief from the unknown “they” was the Cassidy me, the cute redhead who started out as a role playing character.  She/I was dressed in some gothic Lolita outfit the whole way through the dream, which had some black in it, but also some cream and some white, and some pink.  In fact, the gloves were pink, but I’m sure my boots were white . . . hey, it was a dream, you know?

I seemed to be pouty most of the time.  Not because of the outfit—no, I was spectacular.  It was because I was being thwarted from following my chosen path every time I was ready to begin walking.  It pissed me off, because I’m ready, I’ve been ready, to move forward, and I was being held back all the time.

The writer in me is ready to move on:  I’m ready for the one true path.  It seems like there are so many things holding me back—

Not the least of which is probably me.

Sunset Drive

It is a thing of joy to find one self zipping down the highway at night, feeling like there isn’t a care in the world.  I’ve been there many times, back in the days when I’d find myself behind the wheel of my 1965 Mustang convertible, flying down back roads with the top down.

It was all about enjoying the wind in my (then) long hair, the radio cranked up, and the night sky forever your friend.

These days something like that isn’t as easy, though, in some parts of Indiana, there are plenty of back roads still to fly down without a care in the world.  Not that I was on any of them last night, no.  I was hoofing it down the interstate, realm of drivers who don’t know how to pass, and slow semis.

Still, it wasn’t that bad a night.

Yesterday was a good day.  It was a day for thinking, for ideas.  There wasn’t a need to sit and figure out what I was going to do yesterday, because it was already finished.  Diners at the Memory’s End was done, and the only thing I was looking at was a drive back to The Undisclosed Location.

When I drive, I like to think things out—when I’m not screaming at drivers to get the hell out of the way.  One of the things I spent about an hour on was some light plotting for my upcoming NaNo Novel, 2012.  I went over some character interaction, why they would be together at the location I’ve selected, and how they discover what thing is there.  Very simple stuff, really.

I was able to work out some of the things I needed to set up the story.  I didn’t plot it all out, no, but getting my characters from Kuntilanak together again is no small task.  I also know what the big bad is, and I also know how one character I wanted to bring into the story—for just a very small scene—fits into this story.

The only things I’m lacking is the ultimate motivation of Mr. Big Bad—though I have a good idea—the ultimate end of the story, and a title.  Yes, this is known as “planning”, which is something you’re told you’re not supposed to do during NaNo.  You’re also told you’re not supposed to do something called “editing”, but I don’t listen to “Them!”, because they are not worth listening to—and they are also giant ants.  Who wants to listen to giant ants?  They just go, “Screee, Screee, Screee!” all the time . . .

I’m getting a good feeling for NaNo again.  A month ago I was full of crazy stress.  Now, with a lot of things behind me, I’m feeling far more confident of the task ahead.  I have my goals set out, and I won’t allow myself to get crazy in the weeks to come.  That way, I can save the crazy for the story—

If I do it right, there’s going to be plenty of that to go around.