I started on my task list Friday night. I read nearly a third of a Harry Dresden novel before bed. This one’s better than the last two. Reading new fiction – check.
I made it out of bed fairly early, and went through my routine. Once the dog came back in, I got some coffee and got started.
I found myself at the writing cabin, and whipped out nearly 2000 words. I’ll wait until the weekend’s up to post a word count.
I’m at an awkward place right now where some elements have been planted, and I need to let the stress build before they start making sense to Patty, my main character.
I decided to throw more personal stress into her life. That usually works, but I can tell it’s going to need some rewriting. Doubt* the raven croaked a few times, but I ignored him in favor of new words. He can have his say when I go over it the next time.
This is where Lorelei** usually shows up and bails me out with some kind of inspiration. I went to the door and looked toward the lobby/living room, but she never showed up. I wandered into the kitchen, and grabbed some coffee. The pantry usually has a pop tart or something, but I got distracted.
My little wooden recipe card box caught my eye. Inside were recipes for past story elements. There was one for black powder, one for frog poison, and even one for phosgene gas. It got me thinking.
With all the NSA spying that goes on, I almost have to be on some kind of watch list. I’m writing fiction, and doing research, but there isn’t any way of telling why I’m making the keystrokes. Just stringing those words into a blog will probably get me read. (Yay readers) It’s almost like McCarthyism has raised it’s head again with something new for us to fear. Do other writers ever worry about this kind of thing? Maybe those that write bodice rippers are immune, but what about the rest of us?
I have little atoms of a story floating around in my head about this very issue. Maybe by the time Will ‘O the Wisp gets written they’ll form something more solid. It’s best to let them float around until they form something more substantial.
Real people are stirring, so I stopped to update my blog. The girls are going shopping later, and they aren’t stopping anywhere that interests me. This will provide more writing time. Tomorrow will be dedicated to editing The Cock of the South.
* Doubt is a raven, I think. He seems to have some unusual qualities.
** Lorelei is my Muse.