moonbeam

Beatrice, Maria Spartali Stillman

Michelle asked me if I was still walking on moonbeams over the acceptance of The Baby by Dark Fire–well, just one moonbeam. I’ve been lax here at pendrifter ’cause I’ve been writing. I finally figured out what to do with A Haunting of Roses, another short story I wrote several years ago. I wasn’t satisfied with the ending so I put it away and left it in the dark of the files.

Last week I added it to my list of stories I shouldn’t give up on. I re-read it, and re-titled it ’cause I’m going to use that title for one of my Angharad fantasy novels. Over the weekend I cut, revised, and edited it, baptised it Ghost of Roses, and submitted it Monday night to a chosen market. At last, that birdie has flown the nest–for a few weeks anyway.

I’m waiting for summer to strike. The days have been fair, sunny, warm, but the winds zip through, sea-chilled and rambunctious, frightening the sun so it hides behind the clouds, and I’m afraid to step outside without my blankie.

Sweet Taboo is coming along nicely. I’m going to pause a bit in Kenny’s storyline to do a little reading on ghosts, occult magic, and alchemy, while doing some contemplative work on the Deidre-Randall arc. I feel a title change coming on for this book too.

My birthday’s Saturday. I’m going to spend it at my sister’s by her pool, G&T in hand, and Eclipse, which I’m re-reading. Or maybe, since Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince is about to pop, I may take one of the HP’s with me. Since it’s Moreno Valley, I know the weather’s going to be hot!

I finished LKH’s Skin Trade a week ago. Have got some thoughts about it; maybe I’ll share them. The concluding scenes made me go EWW!.

accepted!

My Sweet Rose, John William Waterhouse

I just had my first short story accepted! I can hardly believe it. Got an e-mail from the editors of Dark Fire letting me know they enjoyed The Baby and will publish it in Issue #41, in September. Wow. I’m thrilled to pieces.

tip-toeing through the tulips

Valewood Farm, Helen Allingham

41,420. Sunday turned out hot and sunny. I grabbed my big straw hat, my beach chair, pen and tablet, and took myself off to the bluff to sit and write the next scene in Sweet Taboo, continuing Chapter 12. A lovely sun-gilded afternoon, but the winds sliced through coming off the ocean with a cold edge. Refreshing to the beachgoers, I’m sure, but despite the sunshine, I was getting chill bumps. I stuck it out for an hour and got the scene done. Six good handwritten pages, typed out to four pages, 1,090 words. I’m pleased with the scene between Kenny and his sister Deidre. It went well, and I got a pleasant surprise. I knew what Kenny wanted and I knew Deidre’s perspective, but I wasn’t sure how the interaction between them would go. Nice to see the word meter move along.

I did my happy dance. Thanks, Michelle!

a tip of the hat

Isabella and the Pot of Basil, William Holman Hunt

40,331, Sweet Taboo. Chapter 12 already. Looks like I’m passing 50,000 this time. Will have to change the word meter, but I’ve no idea of the final word count for this draft right now. Guess I’ll aim for 60,000, after I make the 50, and see if I go pass that too. Five pages of a good scene today. And I’ve got 3 more in the queue for the coming week’s work. Feel like I ought to celebrate!

goldfish

The Charmer, John William Waterhouse

I’ll be working on Sweet Taboo this week. Feels like I’m on the road to the end. I don’t have a deadline for finishing it, but it would be nice to complete it by July 31st.

Reading Laurell K. Hamilton’s Skin Trade.

turtle dance

Woman Weighing Gold, Jan Sanders van Hemessen

Good session yesterday. Carved out 4 hours and wrote 1,618 words on Sweet Taboo, reached a good point in the story, and updated the counter; 1,689 words on the short story which I’ve tentatively titled The Girl in the Swamp; only 712 words on Trail of Shadows–this one is getting shelved for a while now that the spark’s returned for Sweet Taboo, and 4 pages on the screenplay, Shadow Walk.

Shadow Walk is a horror novel I finished some years ago. I left a big hole in the story and didn’t feel like rewriting it at all so it’s been buried in the files for years. Pulled it out a couple years ago and began rewriting it as a screenplay, ran into trouble with it and dropped it on the floor for a couple more years, now I’m back to work on it. Yesterday’s work was a great step forward.

What pleases me the most about yesterday’s work was the progress made on The Girl in the Swamp, 4,258 words so far. This particular short story is developing nicely and may actually go out the door when I’m finished. I’m not pressuring myself about it, and think of it as the toy I pull out and play with when the mood strikes.

As for my poor frequently abandoned baby, A Lamentation of Swans, which I promised myself I’d finish this year, it’s waiting for a little love. I may look at it today.

Thanks, Devon, for the reminder that things are moving along.

Up

Stealers of Light frontispiece, Edmund Dulac

Monday afternoon, cruising down Pico, homeward bound, sat waiting for the green at Sawtelle, and a man on a bicycle rode through the crosswalk. Wrapped in video tape about the neck and shoulders. Dark brown, shiny loops of video tape lay on his shoulders and hung down his chest, shimmering in the sunshine. Behind him streamed a single skinny length, rippling in the wind from passing cars, the long tail of it dragging from the lefthand curb, through the crosswalk to the righthand curb, and him cycling along, trailing video tape. Don’t you just wonder?

After giving my dilemma some thought, I decided the best thing to do was first, gather the WIPs and see exactly where I was with each, and then, during my morning hour or during the bit of evening time I have left when I get home, do some kind of writing or writing work on whichever one demands my attention. I’m taking a page from my diligent friend Michelle. She works full time, she’s busy through the days, but she says she’s “learning from the turtle”–trying for half an hour of writing in the morning and completion of a small project in the evening, anything from typing in edits to coming up with a new scene idea. “Anything for forward momentum even at a turtle pace,” she says. So yeah–I can do that.

And friend Adrian advises me to take a break, replenish the well spring, write when I can, don’t when I can’t–also good advice, and much appreciated. I do need to be reminded that it’s okay not to write once in a while.

Meanwhile, one other thing I tend to ignore while I’m wallowing in the pit, is the great progress I’ve made since the start of the year. At our meeting Saturday, Michelle and I did a six-month assessment of our progress.

Since January:

have finished the latest rewrite of Loose Daddy,
have sent out two short stories,
have wrote Chapter 9 of Sweet Taboo
have started a new short story, and it’s going well
have worked on Trail of Shadows –my refuge when other stuff fails
have expanded A Lamentation of Swans

And yesterday, during the long drive home, I created 3 new scene ideas for the short story, and 3 new scene ideas for Trail of Shadows, and 3 new scene ideas for Shadow Walk. This involved talking to myself while keeping an eye on traffic.

This weekend I’ll be writing!

you’re standing on my neck

The Stages of Life, Caspar David Friedrich

Gloomy weather this morning. Cool and gray outside. Have not worked on anything since Sunday. Still reading John Fowles: The Journals. Once again I’m having trouble finding a schedule I can maintain. For the past three weeks, Life’s gotten in the way in a big, focus-blasting way. I’ve fallen off the rails and I’m floundering, trying to find direction. All the writing is at a standstill, that is, I’ve reached a certain point in each WIP and can’t seem to push ahead. Although Saturday’s writing meeting with Michelle went very well, steady writing is still slipping through my fingers.

A part of the problem is the early morning risings. That worked well for a while, but it also wore me out so I’ve returned to night writing, but so far, it’s been spotty at best. Not sure what to do.

cute

While I never watched MAGNUM P.I., I’m still a fan of Han Solo and Chewbacca. This tickled me silly.

at the bottom of the hill

Dressing Up, Charles E. Perugini

Good news
I’ve recovered from my go-round with the flu; good thing I don’t catch it often–think it’s been years. Thanks for the well wishes!

Not so good news
Over the weekend, gray sky, iffy sun, I fell down the writing hill, rolled into a slump at the bottom, fetched up against Trail of Shadows, which kindly lowered a ladder. (sigh)