I’ve been writing so much in other avenues, that I feel I have somewhat neglected this space. It becomes difficult to sustain a constant flow in so many different riverbeds. I suppose though that the occassional one drying up from time to time is only natural. After all, not all rivers run all year round.
So it goes, as the late Vonnegut would have said. So it goes.
I have decided to keep people up to speed on my fiction writing, because it is becoming such an uncontrolable moster. This label: “updates” will be purely for that. Updates.
Shocking, I know.
I am at the point of almost having a new novel to print. Just going through the final steps and waiting on others, at this point. A final breeze-through should only take me about a month. Cover design has been edging its way into conversations.
I am beginning to feel that static-electric feeling of having rubbed my feet across the carpet, round and round in circles, just building up for a monumental shock. If I keep rubbing my soles against the carpet, I’m going to scrape them raw.
Soon, the hollow ache of having let another child go into the ether, another soul released that I can never get back.
A hole and a void for others, always, to fill in quick like a flashflood.
A constant vascilation between flooded-out and dry as baked bone.
Oh my muse. Why are you so cruel?