For a moment I wondered if my computer was coming up this morning. You start having these fears when your machine is looking at its seventh birthday, and all your friends have gone through three or four machines by this time. If I’m lucky I’ll hang on this sucker for another year, then maybe get that super-tablet that I’ve had my eye on for years.
But I’m here, I’m up, and I have plans for the day. Writing, of course: I need to get back into my story, and there’s something special I want to work on as well. What is it? I’m not telling, at least not yet. Give it a day or two, but you’ll see it. Maybe you’ll even like it.
Speaking of the story . . . yeah, over the ten thousand mark. That’s me, Ms. Wordy Smut. It should just be sex and sex and sex, and kept it short and simple, but no: I gotta tell a story. Well, people liked my other long smut, so maybe I can get people to like this smutty smut, too. They might even want to give me a couple a bucks in the process.
I have a guy watching me because writing and swaying back and forth as I listen to David Bowie Live From the BBC, from back in 2000. Hope you enjoy the show, sucker, because maybe it gets better. Enjoy your yogurt and quit staring a hole in me, ‘kay? People, I swear.
I think I’ve finally reached some sort of point with Fantasies in Harmonie, where I feel like I have to write this now. I go through the strangest feelings about my works at time, and this has been one of them. Maybe it’s the writing late at night, maybe it’s finally using Scrivener in full screen mode–which I highly recommend–maybe it’s I’m finally kicking through this depression I’ve been in for the last month. Whatever it has been, when I’m writing I love writing. The distractions are becoming fewer, and I’m really getting into the scenes I’m creating. It could be due to the story finally taking off, so I crank through another ten thousand words, get to the end, and get a cover while I’m editing this sucker. Push it out, put it up, have it ready for the end of July so people can have a little excitement as they flow into fall. I aims to please.
There remains what comes next. It’s always about what comes next these days. Get into the wind and go with it, and don’t stop flying just because you found a place where you can relax for a bit and enjoy the sights. Somewhere down the jet stream you’re going to find something new and exciting, so finish up your thing and get wild with the wind, because if you’re good, if you’re right, you can keep flying the wind forever. Or at least until you get too old to fly.
Then what do you do?
Screw it. You keep flying. And tell the stories of when you touch down.