Work proceeds

I've finished retyping the first volume of poetry for the site, collectively entitled Songs Nobody Wants to Sing. It's the first of three sets, with 41 poems in all. Each poem will be available individually, or the whole volume can be bought at once (for a huge savings, I might add). The next two volumes, Kikilian Moon (poems from the POV of one of my characters - it's not as cheesy as it sounds) and A Trick of the Mist will be added next. Once I get them copyrighted, I'll send them over to my webmistress to be pagemaker'ed and prettified for sale. At long last, we might actually have some content on the site!

Sacrifice is still on hold for a little while longer while I deal with finishing the poetry retyping and coping with the Stupid Day Job. I'll be back to Tobyn and his mischief soon, though, and hopefully I'll get my mojo back in order to continue on to the sequels.

I still have to get the short stories compiled, copyrighted, and beautified for print, too. Busy, busy, busy...

At last!

At long last, and with great thanks to my truly fabulous sister, I am once again among the cyber-enabled. I'm so excited to be able to return to work on Sacrifice and A Trick of the Mist, a collection of poetry culled from volumes I've filled over the years. Yesterday was the first day of spring, and I feel truly renewed. Even better, the snow is melted, the robins are hopping in the yard in their search for worms, and I saw a pair of swans performing a beautiful pas de deux on my pond. It's a time for new beginnings, and not a moment too soon.

Frustration

My back-up PC is misbehaving, and my laptop is now well and truly among the departed. I'm sitting in the public library, surrounded by over a dozen chatty denizens of the greater South Lyon metropolitan area, trying not to pity myself for my lack of cyberability. All things change in time, I know.

I got derailed in the middle of chapter 12 of Sacrifice, with 12 more chapters to go. I hate this, because it's like I got interrupted in the middle of a thought, and I'm afraid to start another sentence for fear of losing the one I was in. I only have so many mental fingers to mark the virtual pages in my head, and most of those are currently consigned to my "day job", the curse of every aspiring writer.

I have vivid dreams and wake full of inspiration, but my stupid superstitions and my fear of losing the Sacrifice thread keep me from starting anything new. I don't know why my mind is so broken.

the creative soul's plague

I'm convinced that everyone with a creative soul is also plagued by insecurity. I don't mean the garden-variety self-doubt that couches questions like, "Do these pants make my butt look big?" I mean the nagging, heart-aching, chewing-on-your-will-like-an-evil-rodent insecurity that makes the creative soul want to wither up in the darkness and throw in the towel. I've spent more than my share of time in that darkness, and it's something that I'll always struggle against. Now, as I'm trying to get Irish Horse Productions up and running in the face of technical difficulties and financial restrictions, the light is dimming. I hope I come out of this with my will to write more or less intact.

See you on the other side...