Monday, February 1, 2010

Brain screeched to a halt

I've gotten to 80,500 words. Have a few "half" chapters to flesh out here and there. Those are scenes I wrote and then moved onto other sections without finishing the original thought. I didn't write in sequence, it became inefficient for me.

I have one more full chapter, the climax, to write followed by a fast review for continuity. I wrote the bones of the falling action and resolution a while ago. Always knew how this one would end.

Rewrites of the draft will start next week.

This part of the process can cause brain lock. Please excuse any anti-social, un-chummy behavior.

I'm frazzled and would appreciate indulging in some of my favorite things right now (a night of opera, double PB brownies, vacation planning, Riesling, a steamy plate of sausage, peppers & onions) but I can't.

I said I would finish the first draft now and will do just that. Intense pitching shall commence shortly.

No comments:

Flame and Bone

When I was made from fire
Poured into the tender vessel of caution
That keeps my smoke from rising
Quickly did I discover that apart from crisp drizzles or falling snow
The world chilled my touched
Walking the narrow cornered gap between girders and cut stone
One learns to tuck his shoulders in or risk
Jostling a neighbor passing by rapt with want
For a clear path without the distraction
Of another man's boiling eyes
The tip of a finger
That oldest of all weapons
Grown deadlier and pristine in its invention
Gathers a mote of a cinder on its bare flesh
And turns pondering how best to scratch the impious itch
Prying open the tender seam
Where the oil of thought dews
Offering a new wick to ignite
Squirming alive as a salamander of mischief
That yearns for a taste of air it is so ready to devour
The steam of breath betrays me
Before the glint of orange spreads
In popping bright waves
Eroding the fibers feeding it
Leaving naught but ash
As my shell of quietude falls away