It’s a misty, beautiful dawn, red and gold, the moon peering through veils as she sails slowly for her rest. The Princess took pictures of it–she has a good eye for composition, probably from all the manga she reads and draws. The mist smells of drying leaves and that hint of spice-decay before the rains move in and turn it all to damp fungus-food. All India Radio playing softly behind me, my coffee mug slowly being drained, and for a few minutes, everything’s peaceful in the morning’s rush and bustle.
Work proceeds apace on the second Gallow and Robin novel, with today’s work a running battle in the middle of a goblin market. I’ve reached the point where what I thought was going to happen in the book is thrown out the window and what actually happens because the characters have thoughts of their own leaps in to fill the gap. I’ve lost count of how many books I’ve written, but it’s always the same–I despair of finding my way through the labyrinth, then turn around and find the thread in my hand. It’s like the logic of dreams. Speaking of those, I chose not to write mine down this morning, and now can’t remember what I didn’t want to remember about them.
Jacking and hacking your own brain is a weird sport.
Today’s run is almost-10K tempo. Which means 1.6km slow-running, 3.2km “fast,” a three-minute recovery, another 3.2km fast, and 1.6 slow-running. Since it’s over 8km I can’t take Miss B, and her annoyance at being left behind will require much petting and soothing. Odd, of course, won’t care as long as he gets to sleep on my bed. He’s beginning to hit the “floor potato” stage of bulldog-hood. He believes he’s doing a grand duty by holding the carpet down, and of course we pet and praise him for doing so.
Rattlesnake Wind is also heating up. I want to lunge for the end of that book, then heave a sigh and put it in a drawer. It’s had a hard gestation. I should never, ever let an unfinished zero draft out of my hands. I know this, and yet I talked myself into it, and as a result…well. Just got to finish it and put it to rest in a crypt.
My hair is still sticking up all over my head. I look like a scrubby-brush.
And that’s all I have to say. There’s other projects that need attention today too–edits on upcoming chapters of She Wolf and Cub, Storium stuff (my, game-writing is a different beast, there’s a HUGE learning curve) and piano practice, hopefully not as frustrating as yesterday’s hour of banging my head on the keyboard and moaning. It seems I’m doing that more and more, these days. Just stubbornly whacking at things. I know pathological stubbornness is my greatest asset and biggest talent, but it’s tiring.
Here’s hoping we all get through Thursday with only good surprises…