Haven't visited this space in awhile. My life has been climbing here, I could have left the brooding behind and arrived in half the time but...., but nothing. I am here I have done what I've done and haven't done what I haven't done. Those moments are complete, and so is a story I started 7 years ago. I put it on the shelf for other projects, but it was time to finish it. I wasn't mature enough to know the resolution it needed. Not my best work, but it is finished, and it breathes. I've seen emotionally dead creative work. The technique is there, but the artist who would animate it is not. Not even a wimper of despair, just a flat paint by number.
It was either blood or ink and I chose ink, because there is always time for blood, but only one moment to capture what inspiration there is. The story is finished. It needs a thorough rereading, to make sure nothing important was left out. The whole fatman flashback is only a sentence now. Interesting to see if I can get it published. This one has been a tough nut to crack because, it's not that great of a plot and I turned it into something better than it was, but the whole premise of "crime goes bad and bad guy turns good" isn't exactly fresh. I needed to do it and it was a good exercise in the mechanics of writing and forced me to dig deeper to make something work.
Time to start the Peter story and the Telephone story. There is The One Tree, that I might get to along the way, but that requires some resolution. I suspect writing the story could bring resolution. They are both different genres and one can be a rest from the other. It's time to really begin. I have three months this summer. That's a lot of spare time, and none at all, considering everything else going on.
Love too, but for real. Some things weren't meant to be difficult, and love is one of them. Granted there is work and commitment. Love is commitment. Love in it's purest form is sacrifice. So many get lost after love grows beyond it's expression, when it becomes more, requires more for love to live and thrive. I've lost a few to that and that way. Then again, that isn't really saying much. Anyone my age who hasn't hidden from their life has experienced this.
It was either blood or ink and I chose ink, because there is always time for blood, but only one moment to capture what inspiration there is. The story is finished. It needs a thorough rereading, to make sure nothing important was left out. The whole fatman flashback is only a sentence now. Interesting to see if I can get it published. This one has been a tough nut to crack because, it's not that great of a plot and I turned it into something better than it was, but the whole premise of "crime goes bad and bad guy turns good" isn't exactly fresh. I needed to do it and it was a good exercise in the mechanics of writing and forced me to dig deeper to make something work.
Time to start the Peter story and the Telephone story. There is The One Tree, that I might get to along the way, but that requires some resolution. I suspect writing the story could bring resolution. They are both different genres and one can be a rest from the other. It's time to really begin. I have three months this summer. That's a lot of spare time, and none at all, considering everything else going on.
Love too, but for real. Some things weren't meant to be difficult, and love is one of them. Granted there is work and commitment. Love is commitment. Love in it's purest form is sacrifice. So many get lost after love grows beyond it's expression, when it becomes more, requires more for love to live and thrive. I've lost a few to that and that way. Then again, that isn't really saying much. Anyone my age who hasn't hidden from their life has experienced this.
