Wednesday

[ellarien]

Yesterday the temperature was in the 80's: today it barely made 60, and the mountains were veiled in wind-raised dust. The hedgehog cactus buds are ready to burst, but not actually open yet; the mesquite trees are covered in tender spring green and the palo verde trees are timidly starting to bloom, and everyone is miserable with allergies.

I'm having a minor crisis of confidence about the current story. I've been faithfully giving it 500+ words a day for more than two weeks, with only one lapse; the trouble is that they consist entirely of people sitting around and talking, or occasionally walking somewhere else so they can talk some more. It's supposed to a mystery/thriller type thing, which is really not my genre; the mystery is slowly unfolding, and a couple of offstage dead bodies have turned up, but nothing especially thrilling is going on, and I'm finding that I can't remember why, back around the turn of the (pedant-approved) millennium, I wanted to write this story at all. Tired as I am at the moment, it's tempting to step back and let it sit a day or two while I try to get some perspective, but I'm afraid of losing my momentum if I do.

Comments

[ellarien]

Oh, now I remember! This is supposed to be the one where Harry can't quite trust his own mind, or memories, or even loyalties. Unfortunately, as soon as he twigged to what was going on, he pretty much snapped out of it, and now it's just a waiting game until we get to the denouement. Hmmm. Must see what I can do about that ....