Wednesday, July 30, 2014

One More Month





I'll admit, I procrastinated a little on finishing this one. Well, a lot. I always seem to have trouble finishing the last draft. I think it's some kind of subconscious, 'if I don't finish this I can keep it with me forever and ever and that will make me happy' thing.

But no matter! It's done, it's edited, and I'm making you wait until August 22nd, because I can.


Sunday, July 13, 2014


Who doesn't like free samples? (Nobody, apparently. Go to the Costco on a day that they're serving free food and watch the fun.)

Apart from being a little taster of The Muse, this is my life on a regular basis. Yes. Really.
Alice. Alice. Alice.
Alice sighed. Layne had perked up dramatically over the last few days. She felt guilty as hell admitting it, but she’d almost liked him better when he was sick-and quiet.
You need to get a white cat.
When it sits on your lap you can rub your hands together like you’re some kind of evil genius.
Although…that did sound kind of fun.
Awesome. Hey, go turn your laptop on.
Aw, man! She’d rather been enjoying her little break.
“Do I have to?”
Young lady, if you don’t march your ass over to that computer right now, I’ll start without you!
Pfft. Like he would really do it. He was still woozy.
“Whatever, Layne.” she snickered. “I’m gonna get a bowl of ice cream.”
She was just scraping the ice cream-hard as a rock, what the hell, man?-when he piped up again.
I was thinking we should kill John now. Maybe with some well-placed apple seeds-you’re by the laptop, right?-in his drink.
“Shit! I’m going, I’m going!”
She heard him cackle and envisioned him grinning like a homicidal maniac. Jeeze Louise, what had she done to deserve this? Did other writers go through this? If they did, she needed to write a self-help book or something.
Whatever. That would imply she had a handle on him. She envisioned Layne with a beaded purse handle sticking out of his spine and cringed. That was just not right.
“Okay, the laptop’s on now.” There was no answer. “Layne?”
Changed my mind. Go back to your ice cream.

Wednesday, July 9, 2014

Musings on the muse

Some books give me trouble. Color Blind fought me tooth and nail about being finished. I had more writer's block on that one than anything else to date. (Knock on wood...) But The Muse...if anything, that one came too easily, and at bad times.

I got the idea, initially, while I was trying to edit Color Blind. I tried to ignore it, just until I was through, but Layne-and it would have to be him!-wouldn't shut up until I jotted down a few things.

I suspect, sometimes, that Layne is not 'my character' as much as he is some otherworldly being that likes to bug me. Admittedly, these suspicions usually come very early in the morning or very late at night, when I also think that doing a cartwheel isn't that hard. (It is. I can't do a cartwheel. I hurt myself.) All the same, though, I have to wonder. I hadn't been considering doing a story about a writer, or reading a lot of Greek mythology, or anything that might trigger a small landslide of ideas. It just happened. One minute I was going, 'am I really sure this scene goes here?' and the next minute someone else was going, 'hi! I know this is a bad time, but you need to write my story down RIGHT NOW or you'll never get any editing done.' No other idea has ever hit quite so hard, and quite so fleshed out. It was like some kind of inspirational lightning bolt.

As time went on, I got ideas for the story at the worst possible times. In the middle of a math test? There was Layne, prattling on about this horrible dog that nearly took his head off. At a family gathering? There he was again, bugging me to get rid of this crazy guy with an ax. I really do have to feel sorry for Alice. She's stuck with him 24/7. (Although some days it felt like I was stuck with him 24/7.)

I don't know. All I know is that this funny little man with the pink hair took over my life for...has it really been three years? And I really have enjoyed every minute of it, even though I really couldn't afford to be brainstorming during a math test.