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lenora_rose(Or, why writers can sound like schizophrenics.)
No no no nononononononono!
Go AWAY, Zhared. Go. Leave me alone. I am not supposed to be writing your book now. Maybe not even soon. I won't.
Going back to Ketan now.
Stop STARING at me, you little feral boy, you. And don't -- no, stop - oh hell. All three of you? Farrain, you've never followed someone else's opinion of what you ought to be or do; half the time you do the opposite. So why are you listening to Zhared and joining this haunting? As for you, Chari, I don't care what kind of a gun you have in hand or how ready you are to kill. I'm your author. I'm immune. You can't scare me.... oh. You're just trying to intrigue me. Well, it won't work.
Look, I don't care if your theme happens to resonate; I especially don't care that a chunk of *your* plot fell into place. You belong to a disorderly duology with major structural problems, and I am not working on that right now. Besides, Ketan needs me. Yes, needs.
I haven't forgotten you (Like I could. Don't look dubious, Zhared, trust me on this. You're scary-weird, I'm not sure if you're likeable but you aren't forgettable. As for Farrain...) I'm just working on this for someone else. You're all about the compassion, Zhared, even if you wish that stayed secret. Aren't you?
I'm going back to Ketan's story now, okay? If I don't, it's because I'm going back to the drama essay. Not touching your stuff.
Leave me alone for a month or two. Wait till this story is done. Then we'll see. I'm not supposed to be dealing with you ebven then, but... we'll see. Is that good?
(Pause. Listen. Silence. The feral stare is still cliche-prickling the back of my neck, but it's now coming from the mental equivalent of concealment in the underbrush, and is easier to tune out.)
Bloody characters.
(Ketan: "I heard that.")
I didn't mean... oh, never mind. What's happening at your end, again?
_____________________________
In other writing related things, I now know the name of the main character for my bears-northern-lights-and-merchant-traders in the style of the Hudson's Bay company story about which I don't even know a modicum of plot. I know where it's set, and I know one major scene where the main character makes a drastic mistake by buying into the "noble savage" syndrome in reaction to the knee jerk "bloody-savage" attitude of his shipmates (Who are just as wrong as he was, and more violent about it, but didn't piss off a bear spirit being so).
Why these things assault me in the middle of a story I was having fun writing and rewriting...?
No no no nononononononono!
Go AWAY, Zhared. Go. Leave me alone. I am not supposed to be writing your book now. Maybe not even soon. I won't.
Going back to Ketan now.
Stop STARING at me, you little feral boy, you. And don't -- no, stop - oh hell. All three of you? Farrain, you've never followed someone else's opinion of what you ought to be or do; half the time you do the opposite. So why are you listening to Zhared and joining this haunting? As for you, Chari, I don't care what kind of a gun you have in hand or how ready you are to kill. I'm your author. I'm immune. You can't scare me.... oh. You're just trying to intrigue me. Well, it won't work.
Look, I don't care if your theme happens to resonate; I especially don't care that a chunk of *your* plot fell into place. You belong to a disorderly duology with major structural problems, and I am not working on that right now. Besides, Ketan needs me. Yes, needs.
I haven't forgotten you (Like I could. Don't look dubious, Zhared, trust me on this. You're scary-weird, I'm not sure if you're likeable but you aren't forgettable. As for Farrain...) I'm just working on this for someone else. You're all about the compassion, Zhared, even if you wish that stayed secret. Aren't you?
I'm going back to Ketan's story now, okay? If I don't, it's because I'm going back to the drama essay. Not touching your stuff.
Leave me alone for a month or two. Wait till this story is done. Then we'll see. I'm not supposed to be dealing with you ebven then, but... we'll see. Is that good?
(Pause. Listen. Silence. The feral stare is still cliche-prickling the back of my neck, but it's now coming from the mental equivalent of concealment in the underbrush, and is easier to tune out.)
Bloody characters.
(Ketan: "I heard that.")
I didn't mean... oh, never mind. What's happening at your end, again?
_____________________________
In other writing related things, I now know the name of the main character for my bears-northern-lights-and-merchant-traders in the style of the Hudson's Bay company story about which I don't even know a modicum of plot. I know where it's set, and I know one major scene where the main character makes a drastic mistake by buying into the "noble savage" syndrome in reaction to the knee jerk "bloody-savage" attitude of his shipmates (Who are just as wrong as he was, and more violent about it, but didn't piss off a bear spirit being so).
Why these things assault me in the middle of a story I was having fun writing and rewriting...?
