And all of a sudden I’m back.
I just wanted to let everybody know that I’ve just spent three hours getting in close and personal with eels and the way they move, eat, bury in dirt and have sex. Writing is happening.
You want a hanging cliff? Ah, I get it. You want the guy who’s hanging the cliff. Wait what? Someone’s hanging Cliff? About time. He’s had it coming for weeks now.
And without further ado, here’s my take on Chuck Wendig’s flash fiction challenge. His idea is that somebody will take your story to their heart (that somebody is probably you or that guy standing behind your back, wielding an axe) and writes what happens next. That’ll be next week’s challenge.
My text this time is called BALLS.
I’m a bit into my new project, moving along one itty bity step at a time. I would like to write more consistently, but you know, life wants in on the fun.
Writing is hard. Writing while working full time is really hard.
But let’s not work up a headache because of that. I’m proud to say that I cranked out somewhere in the vicinity of 10 000 words during the past week, in a futile attempt to get my deep woods contemporary fantasy (a k a lumberjackpunk) story going. I already have an idea to let the action take another direction, stuff will need reworking and so on, but I DON’T CARE. Right now pumping out those words is all that matters, getting the writer train back on track after being derailed for so long.
Editing is far off in the future still. I probably won’t touch the text until I reckon the first draft is done.
Started researching some exciting stuff to go with a story that could fit for the new character I came up with a few days ago. Really looking forward to see this one grow piece by piece.
I wouldn’t mind a fairly slow process this time, it feels like it could be worth it not to force this one. To let it mature like a bottle of fine wine . Or a spot of mould in the bathroom ceiling. Time will tell what comes out of it.
For the record: some of the background material is so creepy that I sometimes have to leave the computer and go sit in the kitchen to catch my breath with all the lights on. Yeah. And I’m not one that’s usually freaked out by the dark. Not yet.
Anyway, I was deep into some guitar playing when I came with an idea for a scene, so I rushed to the computer with the guitar still strapped on. I wrote a crude throw-up of a scene skeleton, started polishing it a bit and ended up sitting in front of the screen for half an hour.
The pro tip?
Don’t write with a Gibson Les Paul strapped around your neck. I did and now my body has all the bad properties of cheap cardboard. Stiff, yet totally destroyable.
Out of the big purple void, a flash of inspiration just zapped me between the eyes and I came up with the best character ever. Yup, Gollum, move over.
No, I’m not drunk. And I have no idea how to use the new character. But with the right story, this could be fun as hell.