Since my late-night rambling appears to be so popular, I thought I’d share a couple other random late-night scrawlings for your reading amusement. These are a bit dated, but I happened to run across them late last night (or early this morning, however you want to look at it) during my bout of insomnia. And now, my sleep-deprived thoughts on a couple of my writing projects:
It’s late, nearly midnight, and I have to work in the morning. Everyone else is sleeping, warm and content in their beds, but not me. I’m sitting here, alone in the living room, wrapped up in my favorite blanket and wishing I hadn’t had that second liter of Dr. Pepper earlier. I’m wide awake, despite taking two muscle relaxers. Usually they knock me out, but not tonight. Tonight I feel compelled to write.
I feel strangely adrift now that it’s over. After spending seven long years obsessing over every detail, I’ve finally called it quits. But it’s important to know when to stop, I guess. Still, I’ll miss seeing those people, those places, every day. I feel like I’ve left a piece of myself with each and every person, under each rock, in every nook and cranny. They’ve most certainly changed my world, but have I changed theirs? If so, how? One can only hope to find such answers.
These people have become dear, dear friends, even – perhaps especially – the ones I don’t particularly like. They’ve left their mark on me and I hope the same can be said of me, that I’ve left my mark on them.
These places, these many and varied environs, have been a second home, one which I frequently escaped to, wishing only that I could stay just a little bit longer.
But the sands of Time run low; the light of day grows dim, and my eyes are leaden vault doors, slamming shut at every opportunity. If you’ve stuck with me this long, Thank you. This is not what I set out to write, but that’s nothing new. If you read only the first line before skipping happily to the last page, well, then I shall say “Ni!” to you! And if thou dost not read this from cover to cover, then thou shalt be made to watch nothing but Carrot Top and Pauly Shore movies until the end of all time.
It seems this little exercise was all my muse needed to convince her to return and she has, along with her friend, the Sandman. So now might I bid you all a fond adieu, and pray that we meet again under less sleep-deprived circumstances.
Now before you go panicking about the phrases calling it quits and knowing when to stop, this little ramble was mostly in reference to my cessation of editing The Lokana Chronicles. I’m once again in the midst of a final edit (I promise, Gretchen, this is the absolute last one!) as Seymour is now taking a look through it to tear it to shreds for me. He was so kind as to rip “Final Entry” to shreds for me and it turned out really well thanks to his crit, so I look forward to his thoughts on TLC. So far, he’s got me banging my head against a wall concerning a major plot point, but hopefully by the time I’m finished, it will be all the better for the edits.
Once again ’tis late. Once again I remain awake while others lie sleeping. This time, though, I cannot blame caffeine. What else could possibly be at fault? The world and I may never know.
Tonight I took two giant leaps toward my publishing dream. I set up a poetry book to be printed through CreateSpace, mostly because I thought it would make a nice birthday gift for Beth and they’re cheaper than Blurb. I also entered The Lokana Chronicles in this year’s Dundee International Book Prize. The grand prize is £10,000.00 and a publishing contract. That works out to around $15,867.65. It’ll be fun to see if anything comes of it. Next up: the soul-sucking torture of submissions. And I thought getting up at the ass-crack of dawn to work out was hell…
And now to bed, methinks. I’m tired, ill, and it’s been a long day.
And that’s all I have to say about that. 🙂
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