Some days... or in my case, the middle of the flipping night, I feel like Major Tom in Bowie's classic: Space Oddity. Can you hear me Major Tom? For a few minutes, the space cadet is out of contact with Ground Control. He's floating in his tin can and there is nothing he can do about it. Yep, that's me right now.
I am up and floating in my mental tin can. Thanks, Ian.
The mental muse is shouting as of late. I have two stories on the line and during the day I continue Ian's story and at night, I write on a brand spanking new one. Do you know how utterly mind boggling it is to keep straight two story lines including the actual verbal dialogue of my real-life children, a husband and my own mental wanderings? It gets pretty gnarly in my brain. It also makes me do completely uncouth things like laugh maniacally to myself for no reason at all. That, and I am guilty of sometimes responding to questions like: What's for lunch, mom? With totally random things like: Ian would totally love it if I dropped him through another portal, right? I've already dropped him down a toilet. How about a bathtub this time? No, what about a fountain? Nah...
My kids are used to it. They get in the swing of my thought process, hoping to influence what I put in the books so that they can tell their friends that it was their idea when something brilliant pops up in the text. They don't like it when they find out that I had Princess Ariana name her pet dragon Tinkles, which, in a very round about and severely backward way... was loosely their idea. So is the cuisine on Bankhir. Apparently the food there is so bad, they literally have to chase it down to eat it. Only awesome food has a sprinting radius off your plate. My boys claim that the recipes I "invent" can compare in texture and flavor to a fobworm running for its life.
And now, I am hungry. It's only 3:30am. Technically it's a "breakfast" hour. Be back in a jiffy.
...om nom nom...
I don't want to talk about Ian, however, or what he is eating or running from (thanks to Tinkles) or falling through (obsidian toilet portal anyone?). Tonight is all about the new character Ian gets to meet. He pops up occasionally in book three (not often enough, in my opinion). His is cranky, he is driven and he's not armed. And he really wants the honor of Ian killing him. Okay, he's a little messed up too, but for a side character of vital importance, he makes me snerk every time he hits the page like only a disgraced Horbryn who just wants a little honor, dang it, can.
In other words, he keeps me awake when I should be asleep.
Sigh. It's 4am peeps. Thanks to the banana, brownie, and chips munchies mix, (NOBODY, not even writers, make good food decisions at 3 am) I'm off to bed.
Until tomorrow night, my darling readers, I swear on my sword and my horse, I will be chugging the midnight writers oil again. Bankhir is worth it!