I’ve always felt that short story writing and novel writing complement, even feed into each other. It’s like short stories is yoga and novel writing is jogging but they both contribute to a healthy back? (yeah, I have back-health on the brain at the moment). Anyway, at the moment I’m using these short stories to experiment with tenses. I have a story originally written in first person present, but now we’re trying past tense on for size, then comparing the two, and seeing what works. It’s really interesting to see what a difference it makes to the voice, and even the way it seems to change what the story is trying to say.

Yesterday we were playing with POV. And in between we have been writing new words in a story about rain… kinda.

Anyway, I think this post is starting to make me sound a little crazy, so I’m going to go back to my pot of jasmine tea.

So yay for that. Breathtaker looks very nice in print, as does Kathleen’s artwork.

I’m actually very excited about this. If you can’t tell then it’s probably due to a lack of sleep. I have that feeling like there’s a film of something in front of my eyes and everything’s a little blury to look at and even harder to think about. I blame the bloke coming at the crack of dawn for the past three days to repair the balcony. Yes, I’m missing out on my sleep ins, but next time it rains we won’t get leaks coming through to the downstairs loungeroom. And that’s a good thing. The cats, who have been locked in a downstairs bedroom for the past three days, are NOT impressed. Not at all. Which is why I don’t have a photo of Navi with the issue of ASIM. I just don’t trust her…

So, apart from the builders (and their LOUD sport-related radio), and ASIM, I’ve been working on a few short stories. Revising one, scribbling ideas for another couple. They might be good ideas, or I might just be too tired. Who knows?

Scott Pilgrim tomorrow. Should be good

Navi was way too sleepy to bless this one, unfortunately. She did kinda lean away from it though, so I’ll take that as a good sign.

Worlds Next Door is absolutely FULL of fantastic SFF stories for young adults (seriously, lots of stories! Lots!) Do yourself (and your kids) a favour, and grab a copy!

Unbound

Well, that’s it. First draft done.

I’m not 100% sure about the ending, and I have a few pages worth of notes to start revision with, but I think (hope?) that most of it is in pretty good nick. What did I learn from his novel? Well, the most important thing is that if I know June is going to be a busy month at work, I shouldn’t plan to finish writing a novel during that month. Because guess what, it didn’t happen. *headdesk*

Right now I’m going to do something completely different. For a little while, at least.

*evil laugh*

(seriously though, check it out!)

Husband will be home tomorrow, so at least we can go mad together. And hopefully I’ll smack some kind of plot out of the words I put down today. Then put down more. Then peer out at the real world and cackle inanely.

Unbound

Navi has a skin irritation, poor thing. Luckily for us, she’s out of the cone now. Sadly, we are still all doomed to feel her wrath.

The vet thinks it’s an allergic reaction to something in her food. So she has to eat The Most Boring Food Ever for six weeks to see if it helps. She is not pleased about this. She is also not pleased that Chessie hates the cone and tried to attack it, with Navi still inside. And to add insult to injury Chessie really wants to eat The Most Boring Food Ever, instead of the yummy normal food Navi would kill for (and actually might kill, the way things are going).

Ah well, it was a nice life while it lasted…

Unbound

Hit a small stumbling block today. We’re at ‘the beginning of the end’ of the novel, and today I was writing one of those big moments. You know the kind. Main character’s in a tight spot, OMG we’re all doomed, then something happens. Something that changes the game.

Except, I’m just not happy with it. And I tried to push on — this is a first draft and it can be patchy, after all. But nope, writerly brain did that cat thing — hackles raised, all the legs out — when you’re trying to shove them into the carrier to take them to the vet. It Would. Not. Go. On.

So, tomorrow evening my task will be to go back over that scene, and make it work. Doesn’t have to be polished and perfect, but certainly less with the wishy-washy, more with the making of sense. But right now, I’m going to do something completely different.

Observe:

Unbound

I don’t consider myself a runner. A runner is someone who runs seriously, who trains, and who competes in marathons. Me, I jog. Cuz ‘jog’ is casual. I don’t do it in the rain, and I don’t stress if I miss a day, and I certainly don’t race against anyone. But still, reading about Haruki Murakami talking about running and writing resonated with me. It’s all in the rhythm.

When I’ve got the rhythm, I can jog for ages, and I enjoy every minute of it. I listen to music. Gully runs along beside me, and all the stress of the day (and the pain in my back) goes away, until I’m nothing but smooth, constant movement. And when I’ve got the rhythm, I can type for hours. I listen to music, and the cats lie next to me (or sometimes on the keyboard). The rest of the world goes away, I don’t even notice the pain in my back, and I’m nothing but the world on my screen and the people in my head.

Right now is not one of those times.

I wish it was. I want that rhythm back. But the big wide world (actually, mostly the big pushy day-job) is tripping me up. So what can I do? Keep running, right? Keep moving forward, keep breathing, until that rhythm returns.