I’m so excited. After challenging myself for over a year, by writing 100 word flash fiction stories and wishing I could write more words than that and form those words into some coherent whole (even a sloppily coherent first draft would do), I finally have an outline for my novel. I will be content if I can write enough short stories that can be woven into some sort of whole.
Anyways, I have an outline for about 8 chapters. That would roughly end up to be 10,000 words. Ack! I guess that’s a novel’s worth of words.
I’m researching like crazy. It’s not a historical fiction work but I want to get a feel for the guiding spirits of the three characters. I think three characters will be more interesting than two.
I may put a few sketches on my blog. That would depend on if a flash fiction challenge fit into the weave of things.
So I’m excited. I don’t want to say too much about the work. I want to live in that world privately – like I do when I’m writing poetry. I did want to share my joy, though.
I woke up today feeling better, physically and emotionally, than I have in about three months. I felt rested – as though I’d slept for a long time. Surprised to see I’d only slept for about 8 hours. Something inside me has clicked off the rote button. Sometimes, I wish I could hack that button.
I guess that’s it in a nutshell.
Time for another installment of Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle. 100 words or so based on the image below. Click on the froggy link (after this piece) and come join us!
We need some rain here in California. The world needs its people to conserve this precious resource – water. So here goes this:
Last Night I Dreamed
It hadn’t rained in months and I was convinced it would never rain again. We were using bath water, already shared, on our balcony plants.
And then I dreamed I was back on the bayou hosing down Grandma’s carport. It was raining cats and dogs but shell roads dry fast, and Grandma wanted that carport hosed down so people didn’t track dust inside all day. A thin sheet of tin covered the carport. The sound of rain, hitting the tin, was magical.
I woke up crying and thankful for the wet taste of salt on my lips.
PHOTO PROMPT – © Madison Woods
I’ve been dreaming lately
when I awaken
it seems so difficult
to get there
photo thanks to pixabay.com
When I Was Red And Ripe
That’s me there
and Thought upon
More than once.
All tidied up
That’s me there
it out between
the capital letters
and other necessities
That’s me there
I found a piece of paper stuck in a book I hadn’t opened in a long time. I had copied this Mayan prayer/poem onto the paper. The book was Becoming A Writer, by Dorethea Brande (1934). They’re both about slowing down and patience and hope. I’ll have a teaspoon of each, please.
You are to wander
Entering and departing
From strange villages…
Perhaps you will achieve nothing anywhere
It may be that your merchandise
And your items of trade
Find no favor anyplace…
Do not turn back, keep a firm step…
Something you will achieve
Something the Lord of the Universe will assign.
(from Bird of Life, Bird of Death by Jonathan Maslow – this passage is a translation of an ancient prayer/poem )
I had this dream:
I’m watching – like an observer of this dream – two wind spirits dance and weave round the pillars of a red temple. Eventually they become one.
A solid “free week’. There’s no excuse now. And if there is an excuse, I’ve wasted all these decades dreaming.
I am exhausted lately to think of it. It. To publish that small collection of my poetry I promised myself to do this spring. Here we are…almost summer. I’m chuckling. There’s no way I’ll meet the spring deadline. Autumn. I’ve always loved October! So crisp and fresh before all that death.
That’s OK. The world – thank the gods – won’t end on Summer Solstice. I can break a promise to myself now and then. So that’s OK.
One summer soon. I’m smiling on myself. One summer soon an autumn.
You Whispered To Me Today
I was thinking today
about sending you
a jar of baby cream
and wondering if you’d remember
how much you love it on your skin.
I was thinking about Frank Sinatra
and how he broke your heart
when his second wife wasn’t you.
I was thinking about you
today I was thinking about you
and all those dreams.
That Dream Of Us
One day I dreamed
you and me into being
It’s all been recorded
and danced to before
though not quite the way