I am wrecked on an epic scale. I wrote for roughly nine hours today and got about 8,000 words down. I spent about four of those hours rewritting a part of chapter 2 that wasn’t working. It was a very emotional part and I redid it a few times before I felt like I got it right. The chapter came in at just over 10,000 words which is really long but it was the most natural place to end it.
I have been running extremely high. If that sounds a little random then you have missed the fact that I am bipolar from previous posts. The productive place between a touch of hypomania and running high is sort of blurry. Basically, I’m kicking out all sorts of stuff and it is coherent and rather good. It is at that thin line though, where the way my mind is bombarded with ideas and dialogue for what I am working on is distracting to an extreme and I don’t take enough notice of everything around me. Driving home yesterday from an appointment was an adventure in stop lights on the orange side or yellow and covering a good part of the trip on auto-pilot. I was trying to solve a problem about how advanced the alternate world in Murmur of Souls was going to be.
What have I been so pre-occupied about? I have spoken vaguely of The Soul Wars Trilogy and for the most part it was because for a little while I didn’t really understand the breadth and depth of the story. Knowing that you need a truly BAD guy, with a lot of sex appeal and a snarky attitude isn’t enough to base a book on. I had Min worked out from the start. She was always going to be above average in intelligence and fiery. And I knew Jett’s family and Trist’s place. Not a lot to go by.
Over the last week, with the power of hypomania, I have filled a one-subject notebook with dialogue, new characters and a very well thought out story arc for the entire trilogy. I have a few great friends reading it as I go, giving me feedback and telling me where things seem awkward or unlikely. And the man who feeds my turtles and changes the litter in my bathroom, also known as my husband, helped me find the images for all three books. I also bought the copyright for the image for le Cirque at the same time. The few other plans I have for keeping me working is to get Murmur up on Wattpad to see what the thoughts of people I don’t know might be. That will be on the list of ‘to-do’s’ for next week
I don’t have it in me to write a blog entry as long as my normal one on the tails of the full day I put in while I plugged away today. I’m going to just cut and paste a small portion of today’s labor into the bottom of this and call it a night.
This is Min and Jet.
“Vela, go get Min’s food.” His voice was commanding. I still had her hand and my grip tightened. My voice brokered no debate as I said, “Vela get me a plastic bag and a sharp knife. Jett wants me to start freeing him from his limbs.”
That stupid chuckle filled the dark. I hated him. My conscience told me that involving Vela in our battle of wills wasn’t fair. I released her and softened my voice. “I’m fine. I will come get some food later. Why don’t you go and relax. Don’t worry.” I listened to her light steps lead to the door and when it opened light briefly flooded the entrance. Wordlessly she shut it behind her.
“Why are you like that?” Frustration had me asking with gritted teeth.
I didn’t hear him but I felt him coming closer. I could see the smirk that he had on his face in my minds eye even before I hear it in his voice. “Wonderful? Devastating?Compelling? Sexy? Brilliant? Unforgettable?”
“No. Mentally defective. Unlikeable. Tiresome. Creepy. You were sitting in the dark while I slept. Who does that?”
“The way you compliment me makes me wonder if your words mean what you think they mean. Having been brought up human probably means that you lacked an education. I had hopes that you would be bright enough that I could be challenged. Sadly, speaking to you is the equivalent of engaging conversation with a child.”
“Is this really all you’re about, Jett. Irritating others? You really need to get a life.”
I felt his weight added to the bed near my feet. Noah and Michael were the only two guys that had ever been in my bedroom. My brother was never an issue and Noah was as safe to have there as Michael was. Jett on my bed felt a little too real.
“I have thought about taking yours. Think about that. Then I would have two.”
Thanks a bunch for reading this. I hope you enjoyed it.