Yesterday was an excellent writing day: I sat down in the morning around 9:30 and got to work. By 3:30, I was sending a draft of a new short story off to Dayle for critique--and this was with an hour lunch break because Himself was home and I wanted to chat. Later in the day I started a new story and also messed around with one of those eternal projects, a piece of fiction that seems reluctant to reach an actual point, but that I enjoy hauling out and playing with sometimes because I have hopes that someday the characters will tell me what they want to do other than flirt with one another. Total word count: somewhere over 3500.

Today my word count on the story I started last night is decent, roughly 2000 words, but a good 500 of these are words that have already been hauled off into a "holding bin" file. They might be good for something, someday, but not for the story in question. And I have this curious sinking feeling that the story itself is misguided. I think it's interesting in some ways and could do very nicely as a chunk of some future erotic novel, but I'm not sure it's going to work as a stand-alone short. Often my short erotica is heavy on sex and incident, but weaker on characterization. This one is turning out the opposite. The characters are pretty sharply defined, but while there's a strong power-exchange element being played out, it's an aspect of power exchange that's more mental/emotional than obviously sexual, and I'm not sure it's going to be exciting or, well, erotic, enough on its own.

Then again, my job at this time is not worry about that. My job is to get a draft of the bloody thing down and then, after reading it to make sure it makes any sense at all, to ask my faithful partners-in-crime (who, in this case would be Dayle, the usual critique suspect, and Himself because the POV character is a guy and I want a male opinion of my take on the mysterious Male Mind) what they think.

Tonight, though, I will not be writing. I will be going to Milford to see Charles deLint and, no doubt, spend money I don't have on books.

The Hawk's Frequency, now available online

Direct from the publisher, at
http://www.bellowingark.org/productcart/pc/viewPrd.asp?idproduct=14


Someday soon, I will do an actual update, with reflections on the writing life and actual content. Of late, though, the writing life has largely been the "catching up on housework" life, the "dealing with various minor issues that, while less dramatic than those faced by my characters, are actually in the real world and need attention more than my characters' problems do, since they will just sit quietly in my computer until I get back to them" life, the "editing for money" life, the "getting ready for a dance performance" life--i.e., the rest of my life.

Occasionally, I need to remind myself that part of the reason I opted to drop out of the conventional workforce was to achieve more balance, to be able to say that occasionally something other than Work--the needs of my family and friends, the fact it's spring and certain things have to happen in the yard at certain times if they're to happen at all (planting, pruning), even a bit of fun--needs to take priority for a few days at a stretch. I realize that this means I will never have the productivity of a Nora Roberts. I'm all right with that. I also realize that I can't let it happen all the time.