I've quasi-trained myself to escape my dreams when they get too unpleasant. Either I wake myself up, or I have my dream self fly away. There was a lot of arm flapping and sky-cruising last night. Yuck.
Despite the absence of a depressant in my system, I still needed beaucoup caffeine to function. I am mightily displeased with the workings of my physiology right now.
britzkrieg, my last attempt at email communication with you has once again bounced back to me with the same error. Just FYI. On an amusing note, 'though Hobkin has a wee brain, it's filled up with sense. I decided his nails were getting too long so decided to clip them. I got him all settled beside me on his side with his paws conveniently displayed and had Matthew fetch the clippers. I thought Hobkin was asleep, but no. His little eyes opened; he saw the clippers, and he promptly rolled onto his tummy, protecting his paws from assault. He then proceeded to eye me warily. It was adorable. Frustrating as all get out, but adorable.
Writing stuff:
200 anti-words on the Novel2 & 600 new ones to replace the overwritten crap I pulled. Not me at my most shiningly productive. Suck.
I have this rebellious urge to write another vampire story. For a while there, I was forcing myself to suppress these periodic urges as they popped up as I was finding it well nigh impossible to sell vampiricly subject-mattered fiction.
Then I sold "Inspirations End" to the Tales of the Paranormal anthology, "Ascendancy of Blood" to Scrybe Press, and "The Few, the Proud, the Leech Corps" to Dreams of Decadence. Suddenly, my inventory of vampire fiction is getting pretty low.
This could also be a "bit off more than I can chaw" reaction to my novel2 efforts. I did some mulling and realized that what I'm wanting to write, in a nutshell, is a coming-of-age political ascension tale set in a high fantasy world which explores themes of gender identity/roles/stereotypes, sexual preferences, and religion. With a healthy dash of daring adventure and magic duels, oh, and a great destiny which must be fulfilled to save the world. Meep.
So yah, I have the urge to write a vampire story. Nothing concrete yet, but silky shadows, razor-edged fangs, hot blood, and eternal youth calls to me. I. Must. Resist. Or maybe not.
Flibbertigibbet fanged muse.
