So. I haven’t written any fiction since I finished my last one, Broken. I’ve written poems, and short nonfiction… but no fiction. At all.
There for a while, after my dad’s stroke, I felt I needed to strip away that extra layer of protection. Fiction has always been me playing with ideas that bother me. Broken was written because I missed two of my friends dearly, and wanted to feel closer to them. It worked. But when dad had his health scare? I just couldn’t put that barrier up. I needed for it to be me and the words.
Right now I’m at a crossroads. I haven’t written even a poem since… well, since we went camping up in the Santa Cruz mountains. I’ve written letters. I’ve written a few blog posts… but the other stuff? Poetry and non fiction and fiction? Not so much.
Broken needs some work on it, and it will be December before I can ask, very sweetly and nicely, for my favorite editor to help me. I have a response from a publisher on it that tells me what they think I need to fix. And they weren’t wrong. So while my favorite editor pits herself against Nano Wri Mo, I may try to do some of it myself. Maybe not. Maybe I’ll take the characters out to play, write a new story.
I miss my imaginary friends. That sounds silly, but… it’s true. I also miss poems, and making the cards that I posted on Facebook…and writing my little travel stories. So many things, and the only thing holding me back is…
The Princeling will be with his father tomorrow. All I have planned is to run down and throw stuff on layaway for Christmas. And the library (our library is AWESOME in that it is open on Sunday’s too!). I also have 2 stories that I’ve promised feedback on. I don’t do line edits, but I do pretty decent content editing. And then… well…
I’m going to set my butt in the chair and write.