The things we take for granted

In the last twelve hours, I've had the luxury of experiencing two things I wondered if I'd ever experience again.

The first is something most Alaskans face in the summer time, but not this time of year. For the first time since since the beginning of summer I was able to go to bed while it was dark outside. It was great! I've missed sleeping in the dark. And shades on the window just isn't the same. True, I only slept for about four hours, but it was four hours in the dark of night. Yes!!!!

Which might or might not be directly related to the second thing I've done with great ease today. I've started over on an old project. From scratch. I have over 300 brand new words. Plus...I have what will probably end up being the query letter, meaning I know going in what the theme is, the conflict, both internal and external, and where this story is heading. It's also a decent beginning to a synopsis. Yay!!!!

Sleeping at night and writing are two things I used to do without even thinking about them. My dear, dear, dear friend Annalou has told me at least a zillion times that it would all come back to me. But I didn't really believe her. I knew I had lost the ability to write. I knew the words wouldn't come and the characters would start acting like surging hormonal teenagers. Completely uncontrollable. But...I started with a tentative first page. It sucked. So, I paced the floor. Thought about taking a shower and had the first sentence just pop into my head.

I rushed to the computer where the crappy beginning stared at me. I quickly typed in the first sentence. Which lead to a second sentence. And before I knew it, I had the first page. Okay, I could finally take a shower.

In the shower, I edited that page. Not literally, but in my mind. The POV was all wrong. This story was all wrong in first person. It would only work in third person. When I sat down with it again, I saw all the spaces where I used ten words when two did the job. Delete, delete, delete.

Hey, three hundred and fifty more pages and I'll be done. Okay, I can't look that far ahead right now. With any luck, by the end of the day, I'll have close to a short chapter finished. If not, there's tomorrow to finish the chapter. Then I can spend the rest of the week editing the first chapter.

When I go out in a few minutes, I'll stop by Freddies and get a poster board and colored post it notes. That way I can track the characters and plot by just glancing at the poster board.

Life is good. Very good. I've missed the characters talking to me. For the last year they've been silent. But they're talking again. Right now, they're not too happy with me. The conversation goes something like this: "What? You want to go shopping? At a time like this?"

"Yes, I need to get a few things. You know little things like milk, caffiene, etc. If you expect me to listen to your constant whining, I must have a few things in the house to keep me going."

"You can't go shopping now. You've only started listening to us."

"Really, it will be okay. I'll be back in a few hours and I can pick up where you left off. After all, you aren't so out of control you won't remember where you left off, right?"

"Don't. Go. Shopping."

"Is that an order?"

"Yes."

I reach for the mouse.

"Wait. I wasn't serious. Please don't turn off the computer. It's all dark here when you do that. We'll be good."

"You're so pathetic."

"Hey, if you're really going shopping, don't forget the chocolate. You're so much nicer when you've had your daily dose of chocolate. And maybe you could find the Gnarls Barkley cd."

"Good bye."

"No. Don't shut off the computer."

"God you're such a weak shit."

"Am not."

"You are too."

"Fuck you. See, I'm tough."

"Just because you can say fuck you, doesn't mean you're tough at all. It usually means you're not only weak, but have a very limited vocabulary."

"Bite me."

"And to think out of all the characters running around in my brain, I picked you."

Trust me, writing is not for the weak. Next time I'll tell you when I threatened my characters with celibacy...in a saga no less.

"You wouldn't dare."

"Ya think?"

"Sex sells and you know it."

"So does torture."

"Gosh, haven't you lost a few pounds? Didn't you do something with your hair? You're looking pretty good now days."

"Flattery will get you--"

"Laid?"

"No. It won't get you anywhere."

Okay, off to get my errands for the day out of the way.

It's great to feel like I'm finally back.