Got that done and dusted and started in on what would be a departure for me…a mystery novel. Suspense! Corpses! Police Tape! I was off and running and did about 500 words at the end of what was really day two. I was on FIRE.
That fire burned out faster than a charcoal grill with the top up. By day four I was hating my characters and where I was heading, so I didn’t write anything at all on days 5 and 6, hoping that a new idea would magically appear in my mind. It did not.
But after some soul searching and some time spent with Bryn’s paws in my mouth, her claws in my hair, and her face snuggled up to mine, wet beard dripping down my neck (all of you that have met her and said “I’ve always wanted a wolfhound!” – that was for you)…an idea started brewing, and it was right back in the wheelhouse where I’ve hung curtains and made myself at home: fantasy. Werewolves this time, I think. I say I think because I’m not sure yet…my process (much to the annoyance of EVERYONE else I know that writes) is that the characters have to tell me where they are going and what they are doing. I start with a general idea of what I want the story to be but if someone gets killed off I’m just as surprised as the characters and the readers! Seriously. I know, it’s probably some sort of mental illness.
Along those lines, I had dreams last night that I couldn’t keep hold of that would have been fantastic filler for the Nano, but those all devolved into what is a pattern for me…the anxiety dream. This time the whateveritis that is causing me stress was masquerading as aliens and the thingImustdothatIcan’t was rescue my loved ones from being taken. The only two I managed to save were my sister and my niece, but we ended up with a long time friend of mine, Robby (from Ramblings From the Tide) who was all “It’s cool man,” in his best impression of The Dude (which I’m not sure is really an impression, sometimes, as much as it is really him?) and these two alien skinjobs (yeah, I watch Battlestar Galactica, so?) who were holding us hostage.
Now I don’t mean they were of the Lucy Lawless or Michael Trucco variety skinjob. No, these are my geeky dreams…they looked more like Breckin Meyer from Clueless. I think one was actually named Travis, now that I think about it. Anyway, moving on…
I don’t know if we saved the earth from aliens. My alarm went off just as Robby was whispering his Great Plan to us, whispering because the aliens and my niece Joy had fallen asleep and my sister was threatening us with death if we woke her up. Why all the anxiety? Well, that brings me to the third point of my post… hazelnut latte.
I don’t really have all that much to say about it other than I’ve had too much lately, it’s caffeinated, and I had to have a third point because I am the daughter, sister, sister-in-law, and niece of United Methodist ministers and that sort of structure wears off.
So now that I’ve wasted all this time not noveling, it’s time to grab my lunch and crack open the other laptop and get that word count up. Or just play bubble safari. Who knows.