The Plague hit hardest in our coastal village, with babes tossed in the water alongside old men for months. When finally we survivors stood on the beach, ragged and starved but free of disease, we watched as the waves coughed up our dead, one by one. They were happy to see us.
My writing plan of late: Three short stories needed editing, then moving on to serious work on the book. Two shorts finished: one submitted and waiting for response, one going up shortly (no idea of exact date at the moment). The third is one of my very favorites of my own, but I've stalled at the ending. I'm really excited to be swapping stories right now with another writer who is also stuck, and coincidentally, kind of at the same spot.
While that's been going on, I've been using OneWord as a daily exercise. The above microfic is one of those, and you can find me there as rsbohn.
While I've got numerous unfinished shorts awaiting further work, and a few sites that I used to actively engage in as weekly exercises (Lily's Friday Prediction and Three Word Wednesday are a couple of my favorites), I've put them aside for the time being. At some point, I realized I was using them as a distraction from bigger works, excuses not to buckle down on the larger projects. A short attention span? Maybe. Or possibly fear that I can't pull off a book. Which is silly, since I've done it twice plus a novelette. But yeah, probably fear.
At some point, I may ask a friend and fellow writer if she could brainstorm with me a bit, help me move the obstacles in my brain. I've never really done that before at such an early stage in the process, but I think I need a little creative ass-kicking. If anyone's totally into brainstorming and that sort of thing, email me. And I shall return the favor.
Thanks for reading, amigos.