It’s been a week, though it didn’t seem like I got all that much done. And, I guess in reality I didn’t. But, of course, I did. [Geez, Ron, why do you have to make yourself sound so danged dense?]
I took the weekend prior “off” to do some tax work, which is certainly done. This is always good, because the IRS can clearly make life unhappy for those who miss their deadlines. Then I spent a couple days wallowing in the mire of a new story that just didn’t want to come together. I wrote a very high-level set of notes about it, then jumped in and wrote a thousand words on it.
They were good words, too. A nice little character study that might be useful someday. But unfortunately, I don’t think they were what I needed for this story. So I was back to square one.
So I set it aside for a day.
Instead, I finished reading Neal Stephenson’s Cryptonomicon, which is great, but dense. And I started reading Stephenie Meyer’s The Host, which Lisa wants me to finish. I watched the NCAA brackets.
Then this morning I came downstairs without even really knowing what I would work on, and wonders be, out poured about a thousand words of clarity, loosely aligned to the outline I’ve been kicking around for the last week. This is the story I’ve been looking for. I admit fully I’m not sure where it’s going to end, yet–a feeling I don’t know if I’ll ever really get used to. But the character is very strong inside my brain right now, and I know she’s got a story to tell. So I’m going to hang on and see what she’s got to say.
Brains are funny things, eh?