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...
Much better.
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!
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