Blessed Beltane, Happy May Day, Good International Workers Day . . . whatever is getting you in the right frame of mind today, I’m there with you. At least I’m trying; I spent the better part of a couple of hours writing code with the payoff of getting two items to come out in the correct order on a report. Can I get a “yay”? Yay . . .
The 1st of May is the traditional beginning of summer, regardless what they might say in America, where we make our own holidays to keep from making the Commies happy. It’s a time of change, a time of transitions, a time to make a new start. It’s a good time to go around and leave goodies for your friends and neighbors, though I’m tired of the kids around me playing in the street and looking at you like you’re some kind of idiot when they decide they won’t get out of your way. So no goodies for you . . .
Here I am, however, at the start of summer, and I’ve no project ongoing. My novel is being reviewed, and the final edit awaits. I likely won’t see it back in my inbox for at least a week, so I’m in the process of cooling my heels on the writing front.
But I can’t.
Last night I sat around and wondered about what I was going to do. I pulled up the idea file and started puttering about, thinking about the things before me. I looked at the story I want to do for Camp NaNo July, my little erotic fantasy that will take its place among the Smashwords elite. I looked at it and thought, “What can I do?” And the answer was, “Build a cabin.”
It’s like this: the story takes place in the middle of nowhere, with three writer friends deciding a great way to spend Camp NaNo July is to go out and actually rent a cabin, and spend the weekend writing. At some point during this endeavor, something magical happens–literally–and the writing degenerates into . . . well, I know what happens, you’ll have to buy the story once it’s published.
I found an open source floor plan designer and started in on my house, because if there’s one thing my precious Annie taught me, it’s that you sometimes need to see a design before you can imagine the stories there. I designed the cabin, put in doors and windows, added a kitchen, put in the furniture, added the sofas and the beds–
The scene is built. Now what?
Now I write, that’s what.
I have that bug where when I get these ideas I have to act upon them. With nothing to do right now I feel a bit lost, and not in an Oceanic Airlines Flight 815 way. I feel like I should do something, because when I’m home at night I feel like I’m without purpose.
I feel I should write, because that’s what writers do.
So the hell with Camp NaNo July, I gotta write this sucker now. I’ll get my thoughts together, give my characters names, determine my locations, and crank out the story. Oh, and I need a sexy writer’s name, ’cause I’m thinking it might not be a good idea to put this out under my name.
Then again, why not? This story could be like a milkshake–
It could bring the fans to my front yard.