the sometimes slow maturation of stories
I had a new piece of an idea slide into a story that's been waiting in the eaves for a long time, today.
If you don't know what I'm talking about it, will be hard to explain.
If you do, you may understand the moment of free-fall terror and happiness I tasted, just briefly.
The original idea is a concept, one of those sweeping, epic frames for ... for SOMETHING and you don't know quite what, because that's all it is, a framework.
Today a character stepped in, or rather the situation the character is in, which sometimes is much more important to me.
...meanwhile, back at the ranch, I wrote a few new sentences on Vigil, and retrofitted in about a page of information. I worked fiercely on poetry and online stuff most of the day. Wrote two new poems, both with potential, both very different.
Do stories sit in dark eaves of your mind collecting selections of the oddments you toss in that direction?
I am in love with my attic metaphors, but I have a fondness for them as often the most historical place of the house, and their usual shabby-genteel musk.
I just love metaphors, really.
Also, this story that may be hatching? Or may hibernate another 3 years, waiting for the next piece? Is kind of about incarnate metaphors.
/thematic circularity
If you don't know what I'm talking about it, will be hard to explain.
If you do, you may understand the moment of free-fall terror and happiness I tasted, just briefly.
The original idea is a concept, one of those sweeping, epic frames for ... for SOMETHING and you don't know quite what, because that's all it is, a framework.
Today a character stepped in, or rather the situation the character is in, which sometimes is much more important to me.
...meanwhile, back at the ranch, I wrote a few new sentences on Vigil, and retrofitted in about a page of information. I worked fiercely on poetry and online stuff most of the day. Wrote two new poems, both with potential, both very different.
Do stories sit in dark eaves of your mind collecting selections of the oddments you toss in that direction?
I am in love with my attic metaphors, but I have a fondness for them as often the most historical place of the house, and their usual shabby-genteel musk.
I just love metaphors, really.
Also, this story that may be hatching? Or may hibernate another 3 years, waiting for the next piece? Is kind of about incarnate metaphors.
/thematic circularity