My mind ticked with character connections, storylines…imagine a giant party line of people speaking, all wanting to tell you their stories, and you having to be patient and work on a much slower physical pace of linear capture.
If these are like previous Medium Migraines, someone could be in danger. Maybe a group of high school students trapped on a school bus? My Creole ancestors could’ve very well been slaves, and if that’s true, I suppose I owe a lot to them and their will to survive. And there was the sound of wings, strong at first, like a dragonfly was chilling out in the bushes beside me. ****I say as simple-dream-status described in my morning pages for five months, and then I started to put ink to notebook, keystroke to digi-characters, during November, a.k.a National Novel Writing Month.
We talked about walking the labyrinth, of seeing the Peace Tower, and then we felt the energy of a vortex in the Friendship garden. We prepared for the Angel garden just as the colors were fading to black, and we each said a little prayer before walking through the entrance. I chose a mosaicked bench with a faery on it, just discernable in the faded light. I feel ready and willing to work all day and to make some big checks off my list. I’m going to add yet another pile on the floor to a better spot so that I can start vacuuming in here and make it feel more lived in. I wrote close to 1600 words yesterday, just planning. …I was dreaming that the right side of my neck really hurt…REALLY hurt, and now I can’t tell if it really does hurt or if the pain in the dream was so intense that I’m feeling it from that. I swear, I’m only going to do one thing to my website today, then shift gears and let this creativity run through the STORY. Day 7 woooo! I took a day off yesterday; it felt like a recuperative measure, and now I feel fresh and well rested and ready to get some words down on this fine Sunday. AC: Or I might travel and live overseas for four years? I went to bed prolly around 10…that’s a solid nine hours. But they were closed, so I went to the Brew n View. I read while I waited to order, then for my food, and there was a guy sitting with another guy (I’m pretty sure they were conducting a business meeting)… While his associate went to the bathroom, he came over and asked me about the book I was reading. Especially with Dan and Len and Rochelle’s story being so prominent. I like to include all peoples, all ages, all philosophies and cultures. Perhaps because I’m too pumped to get back to my story, to finish it? Just Zena and her ultra fluffiness.*** She’s exposing her belly. I wrote a lot yesterday, [REFERENCE TO SCENE OMITTED SO AS NOT TO BE A SPOILER! I had a welling of emotion sit right on my chest while I was writing it. Baby, I would have this draft nice and shiny polished in no time. But I journal, and pet, and photograph, and love on a lot of cats. It’s like that in the movies, with the man in the French cottage with his hot Portuguese housekeeper…
I thought I had a good enough idea of the STORY just to start writing, but I’m glad I took the time to plan and do a bit of research. Funny, I was so pumped about writing more than 5000 words, but I’m still another 5000 behind! Still, if I can have another day like I had yesterday, I will be quite fine. The sun is coming out and clearing the mist in the valley, and if it’s as warm as it was yesterday, you better believe I’ll be out on those porches soaking up some sun, maybe finishing some Sookie.* It’s a very good time write now.** I got a very good fortune cookie yesterday. I can feel it in my tight neck and the slight daze of my head. I sat in the booth next to the window, and when the very tall, big man came to take my order (Louis, is that his name? We chatted for a minute; his friend came back and he sat down. And I suppose it could’ve been the other way around. Trying to actually acknowledge and speak to them instead of it all being in my head. …Pretty cute because Phyffer dreams that Suki wants to kill Sookie. I also remember writing the word “intertwined” twice last night. And Marie’s story, even though she’s 18; it’s pretty heavy seeing as she’s a whore.* Ah, yes, this is one of those times when I’m really pumped about what I’m writing. Part of me just wants to start from the beginning again, fill in all holes, but I say, no! During a rainy day with two dogs and a purring cat nearby. I think the Universe is wheeling and dealing with me. And then the Chocolate Lounge before and after that. I was peering into the hallway of my building, and then noticed all the condos in the building beside the Chocolate Lounge. The Faery Queen solidified from the black trees in swaths of silver. Sometimes, you simply must admit to being a stereotype. (oh, that’s the one movie, one of my faves–and I have had plenty a romantic moment, when I’ve found a particularly nice place to write: housesitting and nestled against landscaped hillsides in North Asheville, with new dog and cat friends for company; in a café on the luminously lit Circular Quay in Sydney, Australia–the Opera House lights shifting primary-colored pearly out past my laptop; beside the spaciously-lit window framing the library fountain, splashing less than the wind-lapped surface of the harbour in Wellington, New Zealand; and where it all began–baby-blue walls and dark rich cocoa smells of chocolate love at the French Broad Chocolate Lounge in downtown Asheville, NC. Still, the majority of The Story has been created eyes-glued-to-a-screen, wheeling and dealing typed words, scouring the interwebs in research–a singular focus of getting what comes to me to you.
(Can you tell I’ve got to plant supports for the garden tomatoes during my break today? (In case you’re concerned, Book II is mostly written; the idea to separate the one giant book into three was firmed up within the past couple months, leaving room to play and extend “The End.”) In the years of editing, the creation and fleshing out of ideas for Book III has been an exhilarating part of the ’s process.
Let’s transform that exhilaration into the imagery of a few nature-based symbols.