This week has been marked by a huge increase in creative activity. I know that I have preached in the past that a writer shouldn’t wait for the muse to strike to write, but there is another side to that argument. Sometimes, the muse gets very active on more than one work of writing. That can be tiring, but it’s not a moment to be squandered. Thus, I am working on A Soldier’s Choice late at night, the third Surrender book is generally percolating in my brain. I have nearly worked out the plot for that one, but I’m far from putting pen to paper. And I am writing my first non-genre (not erotica, not romance, not fantasy or scifi) short story since Grad School. I’m not sure what I will do with it, but it seems to need to come out right now. Thus, I work on it during my various commutes. It’s difficult, because the subject makes me cry. Then, to add to the fun, Jon and I have been kibitzing about a script we’ve been researching for well over a year. That started after a long chat with my brilliant friend Sarah. We’ve just about reached the tipping point for research and theory and are ready to finally write the danged thing. I hope I’ve finished one or two of the previously mentioned works before that point pops up.
I never fight the Muse when this explosion happens. Sometimes, this kind of surge causes me to find solutions to previous problems with the work. I may not remember those solutions if I don’t implement them when they occur. Time becomes the main problem when the creativity surges. I have other duties and responsibilities that I have to tend to, so something must be sacrificed. Usually, that’s sleep. I write until the wee small hours of the morning until I am literally falling over on my sofa. Then I get up early to get various bits of business out of the way, so I can write a little more before running out the door. The works are shaping up slowly, and I am – for the most part – on top of everything else that’s going on right now.
I keep hearing in the news that 40 is the new 30 or something like that. Oh, how I wish that was true. Last week, when getting ready for the movie screening, I was plagued by acne (Acne!) and cramps. I was plagued by the very same things that plagued me at age 17. I don’t think it’s fair that I don’t have that 17 year old’s body. Actually, I would have preferred the 27 year old body (still a size 8 but with actual curves). When I think about it I’d like some other 27 year old’s body – preferably one of those fine shirtless things that jogs or rollerblades past my house. What was I talking about?
Since tomorrow is a holiday, I will be spending some of it working online. Part of it will be spent at the Santa Monica Small press Book Fair. See the Sybpress Blog for details. Anyway, I will be posting excerpts from the sequel to A Soldier’s Choice at some point tomorrow.