Nerdly elitist. Star Wars, bleh.

There is something off-putting about the pervasiveness of Star Wars.

It is no longer mine, it no longer something special. It's about as special as McNuggets.

Everyone is both into it and weirdly blase about it. About as blase as anything else that is so widely available.

The movie will be one thing, it will be good or it will be bad or it will be something in-between. But the culture of Star Wars has been watered down to nothing.

I know this sounds weirdly nerdly elitist, but I can't help it. Bleh. 

I remember when Dark Horse did their first Star Wars comic years after the movies, but before the prequels. There were actually people who questioned it, other people who weren't aware of the comic for a long time. It could still slide under the radar. People fought over the toys, but it was the same people.

Now it is literally everyone. Everyone.

Even the prequels, as big as they were, still seemed more nerd than mass culture, though of course they were completely mass culture, but somehow they were still...different, special.

Nothing feels special this time. It's about as special as white bread and milk.

See you at the store!

I'm working at the store today. I'm going to have Linda drop me off before she goes to church and then pick me up again at the end of the day. She has 4-wheel drive, I don't.  I might do a little writing before opening at 12:00.

I've been certain that this was the year snow was going to impact on us, and so far I've been right. We are plenty stocked. I haven't had to do too many reorders yet. Maybe a few to fill in the holes, but pretty much stick with what we got.

The stock market went backward this year, which hurt our retirement funds. Oh, well. At least we have retirement funds. Linda says it's time to sell the used bookstore. I'm resisting, but not too much.

The writing is still going well.

I'm reading another James Lee Burke book, and he always makes me feel like a piker when it comes to writing. Some of his books are getting kind of repetitive -- like he has a stock cast of characters and just recycles them. The book before this, Wayfaring Stranger, was genius though.

I have to shake off Leftovers when I watch the show. So bleak. I turn to Linda and say, "I'm so thankful we have simple lives."

I'm beginning to realize that I'm probably going to have to stay off the internet for whatever length of time there is between Star Wars coming out and us seeing the movie. Probably about a week or ten days. I can just concentrate on my writing. Besides I'm getting really, really sick of looking at Trump and Cruz's and the rest of their ugly mugs on every article. Yuck.

Just life as usual. Thankfully.

Cellphones are a miracle.

I thought my car headlights would automatically turn off when I turned off the car. They do, but I also have to open the car door, apparently.

So I'm out in the Badlands, sitting in my car writing, after walking my loop and freezing. I try to start the car and all I get is clicking.

I call Linda and she comes out and we jumpstart the car. Trying to imagine what I would have had to do if I didn't have a cellphone.

Meanwhile, I'm freezing. It is two hours later at home and I'm still cold.

Thing is -- I'm writing about people crossing the same kind of territory in wagon trains, with none of the luxuries, none of the safety I have.

It's a good way to really feel that lesson. (In a really minor way, of course, but a reminder.)

Heading for the ending.

I have three basic storylines in The Darkness You Fear. The day before yesterday, I finished up the second storyline. This storyline is sort off to one side of the other two storylines.

Yesterday, I wrapped the third storyline into the main storyline.

In one hand, I am proud of myself because I took a fairly complicated, dare I say sophisticated, plotline and managed to pull it together. It takes a certain amount of confidence -- or hubris -- to try that many narrative devices.

On the other hand, I'm a little worried that it is little too tidy and static. Basically, one character telling another character a story that ties all the parts together.

As I wrote it, I realized that the story the narrator was telling in a conversation could actually be several fully fleshed out scenes, but that would require several more narrators, and I already have, like, 3 or 4, and I don't won't to confuse people too much. I've got the main narrator, Virginia Reed, in 3rd person. Everyone else is telling their stories 1st person in journals and diaries and letters, so that is already stretching it.

Anyway, it is now a straight shot to the ending. Until yesterday, I had a structure in mind and it was simply a matter of writing those chapters.

Now I just have the more vague goal of "ending."

I pretty much know what I want to do, but don't have a clue about how.

Still, I think that's all right. I've been writing made to order for quite a bit of the book, so in some ways it is liberating to just be making it up again. I'm feeling strong. The feeling is there, so I'm pretty sure the story will emerge.

I'm at 55K words, so my guess is that I'll end up at 65K or so. A quick rewrite will get me to 70K. Then and only then will I do the research. The details I add from the research are what are going to "make" this book. Picking the right telling details to add flavor and historical truth.

I know I do this backward, but to me, the characters and the plot are internal, and the research is external. The research is like clothing, not the body.

Christmas Roulette.

I talk about this every year, but it seems to become more a trend with every year.

The vast bulk of the Christmas sales happen in the second half of the month. It's gotten so the first half of the month is actually slower than average, which didn't happen a decade or two ago. It used to be that there would be the big kickoff on Black Friday, which for us used to be much bigger deal, and then it would drop for maybe a week, and then starting the first week in December slowly build until exploding in the last week.

Now, it's a rather lackluster Black Friday, and then basically nothing for two and half weeks. We are still having record Christmases, mind you, but all because of those last 15 days, and most especially the ten days before Christmas.

Here's the thing:

If anything happens in those last ten days before Christmas -- a big news event, or a big weather event -- it would be a huge disaster.

Especially in Bend, and most especially in downtown Bend, we depend an awful lot on those vacationers and visitors who are looking for a unique experience.

Most years, I operate as if the possible disaster won't happen. And so far it hasn't. But it does seem to me to be only a matter of time. So for instance, there is supposed to be a big snowfall this weekend. Even if it doesn't hit Bend itself, it certainly will restrict travel over the mountains. (Linda had planned to go to the valley this weekend and is canceling, for instance.)

So that many fewer visitors.

The last big snowfall of a couple weeks ago had a major impact on sales, at a time when the drop for the average was an inconvenience. A similar percentage drop from December 15 to 24 would literally costs thousands and thousands of dollars in lost sales.

Linda has a saying, "Don't borrow trouble from the future."

Then again, when you're ordering product for the "future" you at least have to be aware of "trouble."

I don't know what the solution is. It's a behavior change that if anything is growing more pronounced. All I can do as a store owner is be careful.

Review of "Leftovers."

The early word was that the second season of Leftovers wasn't as downbeat. I'd been on the bubble about whether to watch this again, but these early reviews made me go ahead and tape them.

The acting in this show is fantastic, the writing is wonderful, the directing is great.

But man o' man is it bleak.

Each episode is a little jewel of a short story, adding to the overall thematic structure of the show. The first season did end up having a satisfying story-arc -- barely. But it was a story-arc built not on plot but on an overall theme.

The themes can't get much bigger than those in this show -- the nature of God and miracles and sin and redemption and...

Says the crazy lady to the pastor: "What's your favorite book of the bible?"

The pastor: "The Book of Job."

Indeed.

Small validations.

In sort of a lull as far as books are concerned. Not my writing them -- I'm as diligent as ever about that -- but the publishing part. It's not something I wanted. I figured out early that if I wanted to keep any kind of momentum in sales I needed to put out a new book every 5 months or so. 

I'm hoping Books of the Dead will get The Darkness You Fear out soon after receiving it. Lara has agreed to edit it in January, so sometime after that. Close enough not to hurry one of my other books out. I'm a few chapters from the end, and I'm going to do a rewrite over the second half of the month.

Anyway, I was feeling a little down. A few negative reviews and slower sales.

So I look for glad tiding where I can.

Linda, of course. She's a huge supporter of me -- listens to each day's chapter and nods her approval, or points out problems.

Then there is writer's group. They usually seem to like what I've done. Pam looking at me when I finish and saying, "That's some good writing," is pretty gratifying. Gary saying, "It's good," and then pointing out a few small issues is gratifying too, because he's harder to please. Susan repeating over and over again how "great" Led to the Slaughter was.

Then there are the people who come in the store and volunteer that they liked my book. Sometimes they are very generous in their praise.

And finally, Lara, my editor. I pay her, so I suppose I should take it with a grain of salt. But for instance, she's editing Gargoyle Dreams, and I was having doubts about the book, and she says she's "loving" it. You know, just the sound of that word is nice.

So I'll take encouragement where I can.

In the end, it's up to me. And I try to give myself encouragement too. Mostly about each book. This is a "good" book, I tell myself. As long as I feel that way, I just keep going.

Hit 50K on The Darkness You Fear

So I'm heading for the homestretch.

I figure about 10 chapters left to go. I have the next three chapters pretty much figured out, and then I go into the last act, of which I have only vague notions.

It's a complicated book, not formulaic at all in structure. I like it. I feel like I have a knack of writing in the modern idiom with just enough of the old-time feel to it to seem authentic.

I'm not sure why, but I really love writing in the Western motif too. So Weird Western is like a perfect genre for me. I want to write a Virginia Reed adventure at least once a year from now on. She was born in 1831, so I figure I can take her all the way to the 1920's, heh.

More and more I'm thinking I need to do what I want to do, and hope that others like it.

The proposal for "Not by Water, But by Fire" was pretty much my attempt to be "mainstream" and it's okay, but if the publisher turns it down, (which I expect because I demanded a contract...balls), I'm going my own way on it. Which will be slightly more SF, maybe with a hint of the supernatural. Because that's the kind of book I like to write.

I have so many books to complete. I think I'm going to dedicate 2016 to finishing off all the projects I've started. If a really strong book comes to me, I'll break off and write that, but mostly, I'd just like the clear the decks. Start putting them out myself.

Went out to the Badlands again yesterday, did my 5 mile circuit. I have a "writing stump" that is situated about halfway through the route, and all the ideas I get in the first half of the walk I sit down and write, then go to the end, come back sit on the Writing Stump again.

I can't use the Writing Stump in the summer because it's infested with ants, but that's okay because it's warm enough to plop down on the sands and write there.

Planning on heading out there again today. I try not to let threatening skies stop me -- Central Oregon can have threatening skies a lot of the time, and never deliver. Wind seems to be the biggest thing, right now, and that's pretty harmless when it's warm. Even when the weather is bad, I can write in the car.

As soon as I turn onto the road to the Badlands, my mind starts churning. Cool.

Every book is different.

It's a bit of a cliche, but so true.

I've never written a book like The Darkness You Fear. I'm full of ideas for the book, but when I sit down to write, the words are just trickling out.

Frankly, and I probably shouldn't say it, usually the words are outrunning the ideas. I purposely slow down the word count to regenerate ideas, because I'm quite capable of writing a couple thousand words with shallow content.

But with this book, the themes are deep enough that when I approach a chapter they are already pregnant, and I'm just trying to give birth.

And it's been agony.

Yesterday was a good example. I knew exactly what I wanted to achieve, I had some starting ideas. Even though it was raining hard, I drove to my usual spot in the Badlands. I find that just driving down the road seems to generate the urge to write.

So I sat there for an hour in the rain, the windows fogging up, trying to produce the words to describe the vision in my head, and eking out maybe 300 words.

Then the skies cleared, rainbows broke out everywhere, and even though it was extremely windy, it was also warm so I went for my usual walk. Along the way, the rest of the ideas of what I wanted to write came to me.

So the entire chapter was blocked out, and that is usually the hard part.

I stop midway, and eke out another 500 words. I'm only 1/3rd my goal with half of the usual writing day over. I get back to the car a couple hours later, and sit and eke out another 300 words. It starts raining again.

I get home, I take a nap, I try to summon the words, and nothing comes.

Linda gets home, it's the time when I'm usually relaxing after a productive day, and I'm still a good 1000 words from my goal. Finally, at about 8:00, I get the final push and finish the chapter. I think it's good, but it feels sketchy. The important thing, is that I got the IDEAS down. The writing can be improved later.

It's an interesting -- and new --- experience, not having the words come despite being clear where I'm going. As I've said, I think this is going to be a good book, with some depth, if I can just managed to wrangle it together.

I wonder if this is how other writers feel all the time. I'm just trying to be disciplined. Getting the work done. Really, when you get right down to it, the tapping of words on the computer probably only takes an hour or two. All the rest is trying to create the mood and conditions for those two hours of production to happen.

There's a good book in there somewhere.

I feel like this could be a good book. I'm a sculptor staring at a block of granite and I can glimpse the beautiful shape inside. I've almost afraid to take a whack at it.

So I'm chipping away at it, not really getting at the core, hoping for the moment when I'll know exactly where and how hard to strike. As long as I'm chipping away at it, I feel like I'm making progress. Not as fast as I'd like -- but only because I think there is something there that needs to be coaxed out.

The potential is just a feeling, but that feeling is always a good sign. It means that the book is worthy of pursuing. I always say that I write for entertainment, that the most important part is coming up with a good story.

But usually I decide on an underlying theme, which gives meaning and purpose the scenes, gives the characters and the plot a little more depth.

I don't know how well I succeed at it, but I know I want to give the books a little extra texture.

So Led to the Slaughter isn't so much about the werewolves as it is about loyalty and endurance and honor.

The Dead Spend No Gold isn't about Bigfoot as much as it is about greed and the Indian genocide.

This new book, The Darkness You Fear, is about family abuse and the helplessness of children and women in the Old West.

So for instance, one of the three storylines in the book is the actual haunting of the miners. Now I could just make this a horror show, and I'm going to try to do that -- but adding extra dimension is the theme that the ghosts represent an injustice that must be resolved, that they are are a manifestation of remorse and regret? That what really haunts the miners isn't some supernatural beings, but the memory of their own failings.

Not only does that add a little to the story, but it makes the story easier to write. I can create for a purpose more than just the story and the entertainment. But only in so far as it adds to the entertainment, the story. Not to take the place of the story but to add some underlying meaning.

A series to be proud of.

Went walking in the Badlands. I've decided it's not the temperature that counts but the wind chill. It was windy. But I started walking and the more I walked, the easier it got.

I was about halfway up the hill when two cars drive by (four cars altogether on my walk, which is about four cars too many) and the driver says, "Are you all right?"

I nod.

"Are you Okay, man?" He said it like, "What kind of moron would be walking in this?"

"I'm great!" Heh.

Anyway, I'm fully into the book again. "The Darkness You Fear: Ghosts of the Lost Blue Bucket Mine." It has taken a couple of days to remember where I was at, mentally and emotionally.

I'm sort of shutting everything else out for the next couple of weeks. Get the first draft done. I don't think I'll send it to Lara until the 1st of the year, since the second half of December would probably not be the best time. And it will give me a chance to give it a rewrite.

It's just a matter of doing it. Just putting in the work each day. I want this to be good book. I want the Virginia Reed books to be a series I'm proud of. Just trying to immerse myself completely in her world. The 2000 words a day seems to be the new standard. I'm spending just as much time thinking about what I want to write as in actual writing.

So this whole process is probably going to take a month longer than normal because I'm trying to be diligent.

I want these to be the kind of books that could sit proudly in someone's library.

Badlands writing.

Housebound and not writing for four days. That hurts.

Having a hard time getting back into The Darkness You Fear. Four days of not writing. I was planning to research, and I have a book that I think is going to be a goldmine for that (no pun intended.)

But I'm just not in the mood for research. I want to write the basic story, and then hang the research on that.

So I'm going to drive on out to the Badlands, which should be a good trigger for me. It's probably a muddy mess, but even if I just sit in the car and get a couple thousand words down, that will get me started. In some ways, the snow has been the biggest hindrance. I probably would have gotten going by now if not for that.

I think this could be a good book, especially with the research adding verisimilitude to it.  So we'll see what happens in the Badlands.




Later:  Ah, I missed that. Couldn't go walking for four days because of the snow. The Badlands were clear, and I got to walk the full circuit (five mile roundtrip) and it was great. Back to going out there every day.

I didn't actually write out there -- too cold to sit, but I got back into the mood. This is going to be a good book (subjectively, of course, but by my standards) so that encourages me to keep going.

Came home and wrote 1800 words.

I seem to have a talent for writing about journeys and making them believable, even though I'm making it all up. I also seem to be able to capture a slightly "out of date" tone to make it seem like it's old-timey, without it being distracting. (Again, if I do say so myself.)

I have to finish the journal entries of the main backstory before I can write any more. This is a fairly complex book, with three storylines, and I have to find a way to make them all fit. The main storyline got ahead of the backstory, so I'm going to put two backstory chapters back to back throughout the book, and make the sequence work better.

Also thinking about eliminating two characters and consolidating them with others. (I have 6 children in one family, and I think I can cut that to 4.) Going to be confusing enough as it is -- to the point where I may include a Dramatis Personae.

I'm thinking about cutting off social media for the next 10 days and just baring down. Of course, I probably can't do it. But...I'd really like to immerse myself.

Sitting through the credits.

I've taken to sitting through the credits of most movies. I'm not sure why, but it seems to enhance the overall experience.

Usually there some nice orchestral music playing, as the movie fades away slowly to the theme music. A little after dinner aperitif.

So, what...I could be walking through a dirty noisy parking lot? Sitting in my car?

No...sitting there, not abruptly changing the mood, is more preferable to that. Five extra minutes, and then I'm ready to go.

Linda indulges me. The theater workers give me exasperated looks. But I kind of like the whole experience.

Best Laid Plans...

Early on, I researched how long books tend to sell and came to the conclusion that you have between 4 and 6 months before they fall off the table.

So I've tried hard to put a book out every 4 months or so.

I was right on schedule with Tuskers III, which was supposed to come out in October, and then Ragnarok decided to go to a bookstore distribution model, and it has been delayed 6 - 8 months.

So...unless I finish The Darkness You Fear and unless Books of the Dead gets around to publishing right away (which has not been happening -- months and months go by) there is going to be a long delay between books.

And sales are falling off the table at around the 7 month period from the last book published.

It's frustrating. I have multiple books written.

I do have books ready to put out myself, but I really wanted The Manic Pixie Dream Girl Murders to be the first out the gate, and I'm waiting on a cover. Hopefully by January, anyway.

This is always going to be a problem with collaboration. One of the joys of owning my own business has been that I've been able to make my own decisions. However, even there, I'm at the mercy of the producers to get good product out on a timely basis, which is always touch and go.

Oh, well. It's not like I was getting rich either way. But I worry about losing a certain amount of momentum. Hopefully, people will still remember me when I finally get something out again.

Arguing with Memes.

A Facebook friend posted a meme about how nice it would be for his friends to have secret tunnel to his house.

Shudder. This is an alien thought and emotion to me. I can't imagine anything worse.

I just went through a five day period with people in the house all the time. People I love very much. But yesterday, the first day to myself, was glorious.

Such a loner.

I picked up a book while they were here and read it in a day. Probably some form of escape. Then picked up another book last night after turning off the T.V. and to my great surprise, Panga jumped in my lap and went to sleep, the first time she's done that in ages.

But then, when was the last time I was reading a book on the couch?

So if I'm going to have a New Year's Resolution -- which I don't believe in -- it is to pick up the reading pace again.

Another meme I read recently was how writing was like prostitution. First you do it for love, then you do it for friends, and then you do it for money.

Well, exactly. At least, the progression is very pronounced that way. I'd sort of like to get back to phase one -- the writing for the love of it.

Up until recently, I'd only gotten a couple of negative reviews and they were so off base I could sort of ignore them. But over the last three months, I've gotten a few without explanation. Just a one or two star.

Ouch.

So...I always check, sometimes find out that they're giving Stephen King and George R.R. Martin one and two star reviews also. So that helps put it in perspective.

Thing is -- none of that is within my control. I don't know if I'm any good or not, I only know when I think a book is as good as I can make it.

I'm guessing I'm going to need to go to self-publishing soon -- if for no other reason than that I'm incredibly prolific.

I've checked out a couple of "open submissions" lately, and the terms were unappealing and they gave off the stench of a "cattle call" and why do I even want to go there?

I'm really working under two opposing impulses. One is the private world of writing, without any regard to anything outside. The other is the wish that people can find me and read me.

I've decided the first impulse is by far the more important. 

Writing Next Year.

Taking the day off from writing.

Todd and his girlfriend are home, and that's been a fun visit.

Tomorrow I start working on The Darkness You Fear again. I'm 40K words into the book, and I'd like to get the first draft to about 70K words.

I'm at a point in the book where I need to do some research before I proceed, so I'm going to spend a few days doing that. Then push to finish the book, hopefully by the middle of the month, but definitely by the end of the year.

Try to get it edited in January and off to Books of the Dead in February.

Meanwhile, as soon as I have a cover to The Manic Pixie Dream Girls Murders, I'm going to put it out myself. Followed by I Live Among You and The Last Fedora. Hopefully, followed by Gargoyle Dreams. One every three months.

I'd love to write Not by Water, But by Fire next, but unless the big publisher gives me a contract -- which is extremely unlikely even if he likes my proposal -- I think I want to move on with my life.

I have a publisher who will at least take a look at my next Creature book -- Snaked. So I think I should do that, since there might be a market.

Then I'll turn to Not by Water, But by Fire.

Oh, well. I make these plans and then I suddenly get other ideas, but that's how it looks right now.

The gratitude of finishing a book.

I always feel a little wave of endorphins when I finish writing a book. It's gratitude, a feeling of accomplishment, a thrill to have created something.

"I Live Among You" is finished.

It's probably the first book where I've finished a first draft completely satisfied. Even Led to the Slaughter took some work before it reached that standard, and there are elements of almost all my other books that I wasn't completely satisfied with.

Not that the book wouldn't benefit from a rewrite -- but plotwise, it's sound. There isn't a single chapter I want to move or redo.

I wrote this as a whim, and it came out well.

Many times over the last few years I've wondered if I should think more before I start. Have an outline, or something.

And then a book like Tuskers or I Live Among You comes along and completely contradicts that notion. In fact, the message seems to be -- trust in my instincts. Let the subconscious do the work, get out of its way.

I'm really proud of this book. But even more -- it has pointed to the way for my future writing. Some books do require research, some books I have to wrestle with, but I'm more and more inclined to write these quicker books. They're just as good, if not better, and they are so much easier and more enjoyable to write.

Then again, I do want to challenge myself.

So I'll probably continue to do a mixture of the two kinds of books. 

I'm addicted to this process now. I love it.

Meanwhile, I keep writing.

I'm writing the last chapter of my November book, "I Live Among You," today.

Two days early!

To be honest, the 2000 word pace was a little leisurely for me. On the other hand, I usually give myself more breaks.

I will set it aside while I finish the first draft of The Darkness You Fear (I'm 2/3rds done). The Virginia Reed book will receive precedence in editing as well. When I've completely finished it, I'll go back to my November book and give it a rewrite and then have it edited.

I'm hoping I can release The Manic Pixie Dream Girls myself early next year. Just waiting on a cover.

I'm ready to proceed with putting my books out myself, without regard to publishers. I still want publishers, don't get me wrong, but I'm so damned prolific that there is really no way to send all of them off.  I already need to write Tuskers IV for Ragnarok (with Tuskers III finished and waiting), and The Darkness You Fear is intended for Books of the Dead.

I have an idea that another small publisher expressed interest in -- no commitment but worth writing.

And I'm still dangling with the Big Publisher, though based on what's happened so far, I don't expect that to come through. That has been an adventure, which I shall someday relate, but I don't want to burn any bridges just yet.

Meanwhile, I keep writing.

Turns out, if you keep writing every day for five years, you really start to pile up some books. I'm going to be forced to release at least some of them under a different name. I can't afford top line covers and editing for all these books. I'm going to need to release some under my own editing.

That isn't that big of a problem, actually, since my grammar and spelling are mostly correct. It's a bit of an extra, trying to get the book as good as I can, that I have been paying for it.

The covers, too, can be done cheaper. Photoshopping myself or with some help. I'm figuring, all these do-it-yourself books will come out under a different name. I still think they are good stories, worthy stories, but I'm just so prolific that I can't continue to expend money.

So I'm separating out the books that I consider to have commercial potential from books that I wrote for fun. Actually, I wrote them all for fun, but some of them just have more inherent possibilities than others.

The ones with potential will get the full press -- professional editing and covers. The others will be done to the best of my ability by myself. 

Meanwhile, I keep writing.

A tank versus the Old Gods?

I wrote the scene yesterday, then read it to Linda, who looked at me in bewilderment.

"Really?"

So as much as I like that response, it probably isn't a good one for the penultimate chapter. Heh.

I've built this whole story into a war between the worlds, but more importantly a war between good and evil. Using a tank is pretty reductive.

I think I can use some elements of this chapter, make the tank a red herring, but it probably shouldn't be moved front and center.

I'm going to sit down and write a completely new chapter without reference to this aborted one, and then take whatever elements I can save and use them.

I don't usually take such false steps but this could be a earlier chapter in a longer story --  there is a second book in this series, if I want there to be. But it might leave the ending to this book a little less than spectacular. I'm always annoyed when I watch a show and they have a natural conclusion that they obviously avoid in order to extend the story. It's a bit like cheating.

I still have four days to write the last two chapters, so I can work on it. Try to get it right.

I feel like writing, turkeys.

I came up with a second "mainstream" idea that I liked a lot. It came out of my original concept for Snaked, only I made it bigger.

So yesterday, I see a book that is almost exactly the same idea. Not only that, but has a similar cover to what I envisioned, not only that has a title that evokes the same idea and even uses one of the same words. (I like my title slightly better, and I like my cover idea slightly better, depending on how it comes out.)

But I don't know anything else about this book.

So if I write it, I might be doing what he's doing or I might go off in an entirely different direction. Even if it's similar, it will be different.

Or I can go back to the original smaller idea, Snaked, which I intended as a simple creature story like Tuskers. Maybe even simpler.

Oh, well. I never actually know what I'm going to write until I start writing.

It's amazing how often my more whimsical ideas take off -- I mean, I start them almost as a joke and they just keep going.

I'm going to write today, even with guests. I am feeling the urge too strongly to ignore. Will still spend half the day with relatives, but the other half locked in my room.