Busy around here. We’re in San Antonio, but not in our final location–to the extent that “final” means anything with us–so everything takes longer and costs more than seems reasonable. And it’s still quite possible that our plans will be upset entirely, leaving us to decide (again) upon a plan for the sort of thing most people seem to have no trouble with. Which is totally okay with me. (Not sure how most folks do it–which city? Which state? What sort of income-generating maneuvers? Somehow these decisions become sticky, and people mostly stay put. I’m not sure about the hows and whys of that. But it happens. ‘Course a couple of friends of mine add stuff like “which continent?” to the mix, so maybe I need to open my mind a bit. Seriously, since we’re all getting new information all the time, how do these decisions end up lasting for so long? Inertia? Or just a focus on other things?)
I could pretend this is a hardship. But who would believe me? I mentioned to my brother in law the other week that his sister (and niece) and I were once again sojourning in Limbo. No real address, all the financial stuff up in the air, and so forth. He and his girlfriend immediately laughed and raced to be the first to point out that I deserved no pity, ’cause we clearly liked that sort of thing. Which was true. In fact, as I said then…being betwixt and between has become comfortable. It feels like…home. If I were joking, I don’t know that it would be especially funny. But I’m not. Does that make it funnier?
So, we’re planning to stay put for a few years at least. Hmm. We’ll see how it goes. Since we still have strong ties to the kids who lived with us before, and I don’t like it when we don’t see them…it might happen.
Okay. Lots of stuff in flux, lots to do, no office space whatsoever. Writing fiction isn’t so much a challenge as a memory. But it’s a sort of pleasant memory. You know? And I’ve been thinking about trying a pen name out, and thinking I might want to try writing a book–or a set of books–wholly within genre boundaries.
There’s the YA dystopian science fiction thing I started. I really like the way it’s going, but even if it turns into a trilogy as planned…do I want to write a lot more pure science fiction afterward? Maybe, and maybe not, but I like including elements of other genres in there. So. I think I’ll publish “Destiny’s Dance” under my own name. Or maybe not. But whatever; it’s not quite the sort of thing I think I should be writing under a new name. Not if the new name is supposed to stick around for a while, and I’m supposed to provide lots of genre-bounded fiction with it.
Instead? I think I’ll go for paranormal romance. Well, romance/mystery/crime. Think C E Murphy, Faith Hunter, that sort of thing. I like reading those. Pretty sure I could write them too, and have fun doing so. I’ll bet I could write lots of them.
Too bad there’s no dedicated office space for me to use. And there are all these damned interruptions. Gee, maybe I should wait until conditions are perfect, or satisfy my “get stuff done” urges with something like a thousand words a day. Eked out in 15-minute spurts, or perhaps dictated a sentence at a time as life-pauses occur throughout the days ahead. And I could eat bean sprouts, and walk 10000 steps a day, and maybe also do a lot of logic puzzles to sharpen my mind.
Also I have no plot for a book. No title. No protagonist in mind. I did do some market research over at Amazon, trying to figure out what sort of plot/character elements are generally expected by readers of paranormal romance, and which choices in those areas are associated with better sales. Just to figure out where the lines were, so I could color within them. Is that sort of thing a leash on my creativity? Sure. Just as if I’d decided to write a sonnet, or anything else. I mean, writing novels means forgoing audio content, right? No videos in them either. I kind of like the idea of creating a massive version of the choose-your-own-adventure books I enjoyed when I was young, too, but how do I attract readers to it? Well, who knows? Maybe I’ll do that sometime, and add audio narration. Might be the thing to do, in a decade or two.
So, where were we? Conditions considerably less than ideal for writing fiction. No ideas to speak of beyond genre boundaries.
But there’s this temptation to create a fun sort of kick-ass heroine, you know? To see if I can do it, partly. (Well. Mostly.)
So that’s settled, then. New book. Starting tomorrow. I’m going to try to finish it in a month. Mostly writing in the wee hours of the morning, because that’s when I can focus. I mean, in theory.
Will it work? Beats me. I’m looking forward to reading the thing, though, as it gets typed. (This is important. I get to read stories I like, and it’s also fun to try to write myself into corners. I don’t like knowing how my stories will work out in advance.)
I’m also going to do the typing on my laptop, using its built-in keyboard. I don’t usually mess with that, because the trackpad is so annoying–moves the mouse cursor around and clicks randomly. But I don’t really have space for an external keyboard, or a mouse, and after all I can mess with the trackpad’s settings. And wouldn’t it be fun to be able to usefully type on a laptop afterward? A new superpower!
So, about failure. Taking longer than a month may or may not be a big deal. Straying too far outside genre boundaries and expectations would be a failure. I mean, I could just publish the book under my own name that way, but that’s not the plan. As for failing in public? Well…thing is, I may not reveal the title here. Or even the author name. So how would you guys even know if I screwed up? Maybe you wouldn’t! Unless you ask me privately for the pen name, or I decide to make it public (this currently seems likely), or some other thing happens.
This project is going to be fun. I’ll keep you posted. Ish. (I’m tempted to start thinking about a plot now, or a character, or a setting. Maybe get some index cards or something. But I won’t–that stuff just ends up turning into an excuse for not writing.)
Have fun out there!
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