I have a lot of nightmares. I have had nightmares since childhood. I have an unusual disposition about nightmares though. I learned pretty early on that they would not stop, and so now I just let them in and examine the strange dream world my imagination lingers in as an artistic world. A world I welcome instead of fight. My nightmares often include strange creatures, part human but grotesque in their misshapen form. For instance, this one crept into my brain last night and ate a sandwich…
I have a lot of books I have started and put aside for a while, some close to finished but they need a lot of work so I have not shared them. I like doing covers for books fairly early on. It helps me set the tone of the book and keep it that way. Here are some of the covers for books you will see from me in the future:
I am uploading many chapters very rapidly to Wattpad. Once they are all uploaded, I will leave the finished book on the site for just a day or two and then remove it so I can publish. It’s like a sneak preview for those that have been following from the beginning. Check out the book here:
I tend to see things differently when looking at a printed page than I do when looking at a computer screen. I edit better by hand, in handwriting, on the printed page. There is also something wonderfully satisfying about printing out finished pages and holding something tangible in my hands. I printed my manuscript today and it ate up two brand new ink cartridges, spilling 403 pages out in beautiful inky glory. I’ve written short stories and published quite a few, but I have never had the sublime pleasure of holding a thick block of manuscript, heavy and substantial in my hands. It is all consuming for a day. I suppose the excitement will fade in a day – maybe two, but right now everything is MY BOOK. I have a glossy black manuscript folder and it is filled solid. Today, everything is-
I’m in an elevator WITH MY BOOK.
I’m drinking coffee WITH MY BOOK.
I’m carrying MY BOOK everywhere.
I am obnoxious. I just want to hold it all the time. Of course, this newfound ego won’t last. I am painfully aware of the book’s weaknesses and once I start editing, this high will crash into the ground like a fucking dart, but for now, MY BOOK.
I used to cringe over writing a book even though it is my passion and something I feel I need to do in life. The idea of tackling it made me nauseous. Two weeks ago, I suddenly put digital pen to paper and words started forming, flying out like wicked screeching monkeys. I don’t know what inspired this bout of creative outpouring but I am now 37,000 words in (in two weeks!) and about 135 pages along. The story is just… happening. I am posting it as I write on my other blog and I admit fully that it is a rough, extremely rough draft. It is alpha or pre-alpha, but it is mine and I love it and I don’t care if it isn’t all that because it is in fact, a bag of chips.