That is way powerful, Hil. What an intriguing subject, too.

Normal, Susan. And, um, consider yourself bitch-slapped. You know you can do it, and make that magic on the page.

Oooh, I'd like to read those stories, too, Deb! I love short stories, and I've never been able to master them. And Gravekeeper, which I'm sure I forgot to tell you, was fantastic. I was so surprised by the first person narration, since I've only read your Ringan/Penny stuff, but it was dead on for this story.

You know you can do it, and make that magic on the page.

Well, at this point it's more like "hope" than "know." I'm a much less cocky writer than I was this time a year ago. In a way, that's good. I needed some humility, some willingness to learn from writers beyond the handful I acknowledge as masters. But I'd like to get some of that old Destined for Greatness, No Power in the 'Verse Can Stop Me feeling back. It helps me keep going.

That's why you've got to keep telling yourself, "No power in the 'verse can stop me"... It sounds trite but I think it helps.

Susan, why not stop overthinking, and just write the thing?

For those who want to read those short stories, I'm happy to send. Bev, I think you've read one of them: "I Am The Lion" is in the PariSalon4665 anthology, and you have that, yes? The other is "Soundstrike".

Someday, I will dig out the one I wasn't as happy with, "The Mother of Ghosts." Too preachy at the end - the damned thing got away from me.

Yes, I love "I Am The Lion". I would like to read "Soundstrike," and if you're ever ready to let go of "The Mother of Ghosts," I'd like to read it too.

Is Burden of Memory talking to you, any?

Susan, why not stop overthinking, and just write the thing?

(I know you're not a big Sayers fan, but I was just re-reading Gaudy Night, so this is how I've been thinking of it.)

You know the bit in Gaudy Night where Peter and Harriet discuss her w-i-p and he persuades her she has to let her characters have human motives and emotions? She agrees, but worries it'll be a painful process. He says, basically, it's well worth it if the work is good enough.

That's part of it. I'm having that argument between the more and less inhibited sides of my own personality. This story is a lot rawer than Lucy's, and I'm going to have to let myself write it accordingly.

Time to go usher in the new year....

Drabble: Falling

I don't notice when my eyes close and I shift from book to dream. Suddenly I'm hit with that little full-body spasm that feels like I dropped six inches and I'm awake again.

I read some more and again drift off without noticing. My fingers relax their hold on the book balanced on my tummy and -- WHUMP! -- it falls flat on my chest. Awake again.

I close my eyes, roll half over and set the book aside, blindly stretch my fingers up to the switch on the bedside lamp and turn it off. Maybe this time I can stay asleep.

He says, basically, it's well worth it if the work is good enough.

As I recall, he basically says something rather more basic and more sublte than that: she says she's afraid t'll hurt like hell and he says, yeah, so, what's your point? That's what writers do. Not that the work is good enugh, but that if her pain makes the better story, just go feel it, already, and make a better story, because that's what writers do.

Bev, Burden of Memory could be shouting the walls down right now, and it would have to wait a bit. I need a bit of flow on "Cruel Sister". Business is business and income is income, and this is the one my agent wants to pitch. And in fact, it's singing louder to me than BoM is. So, that's fortunate.

I'll send you Soundstrike.

I got inspired. Something that doesn't happen too often, so I thought I'd share. This started out 49 words over the limit. I purged, but I think it still has the same feel. I know I'm too wordy, so I've thought doing a few drabbles might teach me to get to the point.

A Drabble on Falling:

My mother had a fondness for Broadway musicals. When I was young, she would whistle show tunes in the kitchen. They seemed so cheery, nothing to cry over.

More recently, my mother and I often took trips to Milwaukee for musical events. One year we went to see “The Phantom of the Opera.” While I liked it, it didn’t inspire tears any more than the others.

Now, my mother is gone and “Phantom” is coming to the Overture Center here in Madison. My father bought us tickets. The musical is being advertised on TV constantly. And, now, my tears fall.

Aw. Sail, that's a lovely ping of memory.