Dream Walker

I write what I should write. 

In essence, I write what the voices tell me. Does the absolute madness of that sentence bother me? Not in the slightest. The voices say it shouldn't. 😂

While I have over two dozen ideas for books TBW (to-be-written), I don't go willy-nilly into the fray. I have some semblance of order in the madness and gorgeous chaos.

However, sometimes a stray idea wanders in, tells every other story to fuck smooth off, and settles itself into my grey matter with a bottle of Wild Turkey. The liquor flows. The story goes.

Two completely unexpected things happened this year. 

I tried to force myself to write to market. Sweet Jesus. This was horrific. I failed miserably. Wasted my time. Regret. Flogging myself with an ampersand. Shame, etc.

The other being a character named Rissa, who wandered into my world. Okay. She kicked in the doors, scared the shit out of everyone but Ray, and settled in for the long haul.

Her story resonates. I have a thing for damaged characters. A ken for the lost souls. Being a serial killer at the grand age of seven counts.

Ever had something special about you? Something wonderful no one else could do? Then have it twisted to become the worst thing about you? Used with absolutely no regard to your mental or physical health?

Rissa has.

And the price?

The price was only her soul.

I had to tell her story before I finished Ray's in "Canary: Out of the Shadows". 

I should finish this month. I lack right around 10,000 words or so. Some stitching. Definite polish. 

But the story? The awful story? And Rissa's redemption? Oh. It's all there. 

Better when I'm busy

I've Canary:  DD pulled up on my other monitor and will hop right on that forthwith.  Haven't touched it since the last time I blogged.

But what have I been DOING???

Well.  My short overachieving ass decided to buy 45 yards of fleece and make the family fleece blankets.  The only truly creative thing I can do besides write. 😊  I can also freehand cross-stitch, but that's been a long minute, and I would certainly need a magnifying glass now.  Hard pass.  

Acquired an air fryer, and I MUST play with the new toy which means:  Scouring the Internet for recipes I will actually eat I can pop in there and admire.  Take food porn pictures for Facebook.  Feel some sense of accomplishment for eating semi-healthy.  Rinse.  Repeat.  heh

Took youngest baby child for gallbladder surgery.  Not a good scene.  My poor baby.  She said she hurt worse over this than her C-sections.  I felt awful for her. 😭  

Flu shot.  Bivariant booster.  

But...the writing.

Woke up a little before 2 last night.  Bathroom.  Bed.  Wrote on my book.  In my head.  But it was vivid enough I remember the details, and it was a great scene and then some.  I knew I'd be writing today because you don't ever say "no" to the book.  Dialogue and scenes are a gift.  I'll raise my bleary-ass head, no matter the time, and jot down notes on my phone about my books.  

My Mercenary Girl is fighting another uphill battle or three.  Several beings have taken an interest in her movements and actions.  She's been marked by an ancient deity.  She owes a debt her mother should have paid.  Not easy trying to survive in this world or any other.  They don't know my girl.  But they soon will.

Always writing*