The angle of this picture is due to the fact that it was taken on the floor the other night, when I was in a state of (melodramatic) creative misery. On this so-called eve of “listening to Fleet Foxes because I’m in a funk,” I painted my nails orange-red as a way to forget about my shortcomings as a writer while I stared up at this impostor of a night sky. Writing, to me, is like training for a marathon I might run in two years, or maybe in five, or maybe in ten or twenty. I am impatient! I want to run it now, but if I do, I will simply not be fit enough.
Next week I will turn twenty-two. In the past two years I have written three major (by major I only mean length) things, only one of which is salvageable. That is the one I am currently editing. I do think it has the enormous potential to be good (however many drafts that takes). Still, as of now, it is in its infant stages, and potential is a curious thing because it is not concrete. The potential is a pendulum, really, and it will easily swing in the opposite direction. If that is the case, I will have to start a new story. I have tinkered with an idea for that one. It will have to wait until after this one is finished to give it my full time and attention.
After finishing THE LUCIFER EFFECT I decided it was time for something more fantastical and I picked up Diana Wynne Jones’ THE MERLIN CONSPIRACY. She is quite fabulous, of course. After that, next on my list is something by Dion Fortune. Has anyone read her works? What would you recommend I start with?