Between the Lines

This morning starts out early like so many others on a Saturday:  sitting in Panera, my breakfast finished and drinking my coffee.  It’s almost seven AM and I’ve been awake since four-thirty.  I have a bill to pay today, and I’m thinking of heading down to a local hair salon and getting my hair cut and my eyebrows shaped a bit.  Tomorrow I need to do the laundry ’cause I haven’t many things that are clean.  I also believe I’m developing a cold, because there’s been a strange tickling in my chest, one that started late last night and it bothering me this morning.

Not an auspicious start to the weekend, particularly if I want to go out tonight, which I am still debating.

Why am I debating this?  Because I may want to stay in an write.

"Yeah, I could ship this Allison/Cosima story as is, but it really needs a three-way with zombie Helena to make it rock."

“I could ship this Allison/Cosima story as is, but it totally needs a three-way with zombie Helena to make it rock.  Yeah, seestra.”

I reached out to a few online friends I have and caught up on chat for a few hours.  I needed that because I was in serious need of decompression.  I’m back to not sleeping well and dealing with long days at work, then writing at night, which is working on my head in strange ways.

Believe it or not, this novel is taking one hell of a toll on that fragile shell I refer to as my emotions.  I’ll have to force myself to start writing, which is sometimes due to be tired, but other times it’s because I know, in my head, where I’m going with the scene, and I’m diggin’ the fact that I might find the conclusion of the scene a little heart rendering.  A few times I’ve had to stop and work out a full-on crying jag, and more often than not I’m on the verge of tears when I crawl under the covers.

The Crazy Tale of Annie and Kerry brings up way too many bad memories, and the scene I’m in now is going to bring about a phrase I haven’t heard in some time, and I know that’s going to lead to something I don’t really want again, but it’s coming, I know it is, and one just lets it happen if you wanna get the story out.

Did I think this would happen?  Yeah, probably a little.  There are some intense feeling between these characters, and my feelings about them are just as strong.  Crazy world, this writing.  Sometimes you get caught up in these young, mind-swirling desires, and if you aren’t careful you find yourself falling in and getting dragged to the bottom of the emotional ocean, just as surely as if you fall into the Corryvreckan Maelstrom.

As I’ve started before, some writers have said you’re only at your best when you’re uncomfortable about what you’re writing.  You’re putting yourself out there, pushing yourself to go places that one normally avoids.  That’s how I feel at the moment as I’m wrapping up this first act:  there are things being said that make me uncomfortable, because they bring back memories I’d prefer remain quiet and sleeping.  Won’t happen, because I woke them up some time back–

And they’re gonna stay awake until such time this novel is completed.

Yeah . . . fun year ahead, I can tell.

Return to In Progress

It’s the end of July, and you know what that means?  It’s Juliet’s birthday.  Hey, star-crossed lovers killing themselves since 1597, the printing date of the first quarto, what could be better?  Yes, I’m aware there’s another literary character who was born today, but lets give original props where it’s deserved.

Besides, we all know the kid born yesterday is the real Chosen One . . .

Blender is proving to be great fun, and a lot of work.  You wanna build a road or paths, it’s a lot of work, there’s a lot of things that one needs to do to get these things laid out and looking right.  Already this morning I’ve canned a path twice because it ended up looking like a hot mess.  I’ll return to it later, for now I am blogging, and the twenty minutes or so it’s taking me to build this thing is twenty minutes I’m not writing.

Not that what I’m working on isn’t somewhat writing related, but it’s for a story that’s already gone, and one that’s waiting in the wings.  Thinking about that waiting novel, there’s so much coming to mind, and the realization that there are a couple of things in need of research.  Nothing major, but I know they are things that are needed if I’m going to give this story any kind of “realism”.

But I need to slide that story to the side–at least for a few hours a day–because Productivity Returned to Hell Town tomorrow.  It’s time to publish, and that means I’ll begin editing Couples Dance tomorrow.  I’ve decided on this story for a couple of reasons.  One, it’s a short novel–about fifty-three thousand words, so one can get through it in a day or two if one so desires.  And, two, it’s horror erotica, and I’m sure there’s a few people out there–okay, more than a few–who might just enjoy sexy horror.  Or is it horrific sex?  I’ll leave that up to the readers.

Couples Dance was the story that taught me not to be afraid to write things that will come across as over-the-top unusual for your readers.  There were many times when I was writing this story that I felt like stopping because I’d think about what I was about to write, and my mind went, “Are you actually going to write that?  Seriously, that’s some jacked-up shit.”  Then I’d blog about how I felt about needing to write some jacked-up shit, then get to writing.

There is a Stephen King quote somewhere–damned if I can find it now–about pushing yourself to write things that you feel you aren’t ready to write, about how that’s the moment when you make yourself a better writer by going outside your comfort zone of creativity.  A lot of Couples Dance is like that.  It’s strange, it sort of becomes erotica one moment, then horror, then . . . something else.

In the end, however, it’s a story.  One that I want to publish and have available for people to pick up and read.  I may even try publishing this the traditional way–

Wouldn’t that be something different . . .