Like, final leg of a race, not I’m standing on my last leg. Just a few more days until the blogging challenge with Wes is over, and I’m glad for that. I’m happy that this has gotten me fully back into the rhythm of writing every day, but I need to get back to a bit more flexibility in how that can manifest itself. For example, taking several days to write one really great post instead of having limited time and having to force out 300 words that no one really wants to read. Also, to use that time to work on fiction as well. The trick will be keeping the consecutive days going after the challenge is over. I need to be writing every day, I just look forward to not having to publish it online every time I do.
The challenge really is working though. Rubbing these feeble sticks together is starting to make a small fire. That bit of fire being that I finished a story yesterday. Or, the first draft of a story at least. I had been avoiding that work for a long time, and it feels good to get something done so I can begin the long process of editing the hell out it. Whether or not it will ever be good enough to be published, I’m going to work on it as if it will be.
It started with a trigger a ways back, the story of a man who wakes up in the middle of the night overwhelmed by the urge to get up and start walking, pulled onward by a strange magnetism that is pulling him away from his shitty life. I had no idea where it was going, but liked the initial short beginning I’d created. I actually thought early on that he was perhaps being pulled toward something that would eat him, like some kind of big spider that could lure its prey with a feeling that could be mistaken for some mysterious destiny that had awoken the poor victim in the night. I guess the metaphor was that sometimes the thing we think is saving us from the mundane will actually destroy us. As it would turn out, it wasn’t a big spider after all, and things turned out pretty well for everyone.
