pendrifter

Wrote 460 words on the February short story, which I’ve titled Grinding Time, but I don’t know if it’s going to turn into a real story, not even sure if there is a story, and my ideas evaporate as soon as they float into view, can’t seem to get a fix on anything. Chilly this morning, but the sun’s shining brightly, expect it’ll be a pleasant day weather-wise.

Finished my read-through and edit notes on Taken–will be happy when I come up with a new title since Taken is so very taken, a shriveled leaf from the title tree.

Revised the opening paragraph of Auno’s Widow, it’s smoother now, not tripping all over itself.

Monday again.

February’s objectives:

• Submit the 4 short stories: Breath of the Grave, Shadow, Auno’s Widow, and Three Heartbeats
• Write the February short story
• Re-read Taken, do edit notes
• Send out picture book manuscript, How Moon Got Her Glow

Rain again, but this morning’s drive in flowed without incident or accident. Not much writing done this week, but much thinking.

Friday Report #5

• Made notes for the February short story #2. Main character appeared in the misty mental landscape, but no story yet, only vague hints, possibilities wafting about like floaters in my mind’s eye.
• Responded to a freelance job — be a kick if they like my work.
• Finished the Gaius section, wrote the end scene for this particular part, moving onto the Mira section, but nothing happening there yet. Thinking…
• Sweet Taboo – on hiatus; writer strike.
• Taken — this working title will definitely change; re-reading the manuscript, making edit notes.

Monthly meeting with Michelle tomorrow.

Happy Friday!

Sitting at my writing desk, inching toward work. February is breathing down my neck so it’s time to really focus on the February short story.  I’ve been reading, re-reading, The Passionate, Accurate Story by Carol Bly. Did send Three Heartbeats to Janet, and I’ve got back her comments on Breath of the Grave. It passed with her so I only need to address a few nits and let it go. There’s something weird going on in my head–almost every idea turns into horror or dark fantasy. Not a problem, but it makes me wonder, though it shouldn’t since I’ve had a morbid fascination with the dark, the terrible, and the deadly all my life.

No more feeling guilty about not writing–’cause either you write or you don’t. Guilt is a useless emotion in the pursuit of an art. It serves too often as a substitute for procrastination, another form of resistance, and resistance never sleeps, as Steven Pressfield states in The War of Art. Soon enough you’re feeling guilty about feeling guilty for not writing. Writing is hard enough, sitting down to write is hard enough–no need to borrow trouble.

Printed out SWEET TABOO, but not ready to read through it yet. Still have not finished the rewrite.

Mondays are always tough, like climbing a mountain, but here we are at midweek already. The promised rainstorm came and went yesterday, no more than a few sprinkles, enough to wring the clouds dry. Writing continues on Sweet Taboo; I’m going to have to revise the Olivewood Cemetery scene–not now, later. The point of view should be Randall’s. I have not written on it every day, but it’s got my focus. I’ve accumulated some pages, haven’t checked the word total lately, don’t think I’ll be finished with it when I reach 60,000. It’s going to go through my head one more time anyway. Yesterday morning the brain too full of sludge to start Chapter 14 so I reorganized the novel on Scrivener, created chapter folders and dropped in the scenes for each. Still thinking about what to write for Chapter 15. Best to start with Randall, I think.

Must re-read Three Heartbeats, sent Breath of the Grave to Janet, and that reminds me–must send her Three Heartbeats too.

Struck by a thunderbolt of laziness this week; should’ve written that last scene already! Did manage two paragraphs yesterday.