I’m trying to get myself worked back up into a writing phase. This is proving to be difficult due to my moving in with Goose at the end of the week (start of next week?) and the amount of work going into that.
But, thankfully, I bought the new Eminem CD ‘Recovery’ which has grown on me quite a bit since I started listening to it. I gotta say that soem of the tracks just help conjure up images of pain and depression that can help me write scenes with that demeanor. Its different from ‘Relapse’ which was great in its own way, but mostly just for writing grim images.
Love writing to music. If I’m really feeling a song I’ll listen to the same song or set of songs on loop for hours on end, like I did for NaNo, I won’t say what I was listening to because I don’t want to lose what little respect I hold on these internets, but it was key to me writing the words to fill up the pages.
Now to decide between more packing or shredding or writing. Or WoW.
For some reason I got inspired to write after receiving an overdue bill for my health insurance. Nothing like paying a bill and then being told it never was paid.
Anyways, I picked up ‘Dream Tube’ and did some work on that, now I’m picking up ‘godless’ to finish the edits so I can get it sent off.
Gotta stop taking breaks from the writing to pursue whatever the fuck I accomplished over the last couple months.
The ladder creaked as he climbed up to his loft, the wooden boards laying across the rafters of his hut. He lifted himself onto the boards and crawled over to the thin mattress he had laid there, a thick wool blanket that protected him from the cold below him.
A candle’s light flickered with his movements as the weight of the day brought him down onto the mattress. He pulled the assortment of blankets over his body as he took in a deep breath. He could read, perhaps journal. He had had many ideas throughout the day, fun tales he could regal his friends with.
But his eyes were heavy, struggling to remain open for any length of time. His spirit willing, but not eager. The trials of the day too much of a burden for him. He leaned over and exhaled heavily, blowing out the candle, leaving the small fire in the hearth below to provide him with enough light to see the edges of his loft.
Tomorrow would be much of the same, as would the day after, he thought to himself as his body fell asleep, his mind still pressing on.
My background turned black without my changing it in my settings. Perhaps it is magic. Perhaps magicks.
