An Alien Signal

Crow and Tree - Heaven and Earth in Winter Just before dawn it was clear, but as I’ve been at the computer, mist has risen from the earth, hanging in the trees. It’s a nice way to begin, and I have the short story slated for today. I’m either going to finish it, or get it to a place where it can be finished soon.

I don’t know what it is about short stories–each time, I have an idea that will work, I pursue it, and then I have to throw it out and come at it sideways, and I end up with a completely different story that is unrelated in a specific way to the original one. The original one, half-born, waits around until it becomes a second attempt at a completely different short story. Unlike my novel process, the short story process doesn’t change with each one. But still, I would rather write novel or novella-length than short story. I find shorts difficult, temperamental, nerve-wracking. It’s good practice, but like many other good-practice things, it’s uncomfortable and I’m always glad when it’s done.

My dreams have been odd of late, even for me. Coherent stories, but…odd. Escaping from Soviet Russia, cakes with hard, bittersweet chocolate shells, bonfires of paint. It’s not even a mental housecleaning, it’s like a very particular frequency of static, a burst right before one starts receiving an alien signal. Added to this, the crows on my morning run have begun greeting me, and we play little games, which Miss B doesn’t like. She hates chasing things that can fly, their taunting disturbs her but she’s helpless to stop.

I know you guys are waiting for the second half of Napoleon’s interrupte. I’ll write it when I’m ready, thank you.

And now, back to the short story. Either it or I will perish today. *buckles in*

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I agree with what you say there. I’m not a fan of writing them, but for some reason they keep on pulling me back.

Shannon Ginthre
Shannon Ginthre

Dear Lili, I finished your book Nameless, and I have been trying to find it on the web so I could right a review on it. Unfortunately I have been unable to do so… So I’m going to write it here for you. Nameless is a celebration of akwardness and strangeness. It is everything YA’s fear or feel. Its identifiable. The main character, Cami, becomes so real, you could reach out and touch her. She is the antithesis of “hero” yet in the end is and becomes “heroic” but not in the usual sense. There is no sword swinging, no… Read more »