There's a story waiting for me -

I know there's a story waiting for me in this place - with its cloth-covered metal walls low enough for me to comfortably see over when I'm standing and its terribly dull wallpaper in the restroom. So dull it's a little offensive; you know, even cheap Chinese restaurants have better wallpaper in their one stall bathrooms than that. Offensive that we're all expected to just take all this dumb mediocrity like it's our jobs... Oh wait.

This morning there was a huge bank of deep purple cloud cover hanging down on the point of collapsing onto the southwestern horizon. I drove toward it, watching the little strips of softly glowing pinks and yellows straining to show up behind it, around it, above it - anywhere they could. And everywhere else things were a soft dove grey slowly turning bluer and bluer.

Maybe it's time to face the inevitability of blogging seriously. Every time I attempt to do it though, I fail miserably. Kind of like finishing my novels. I need a noveling buddy / someone to hold me accountable when I start falling off the bandwagon. Just means I need someone willing to be stronger at this than I am. Fuck.

Here's the plan: between now and April, finish the first draft of Grave of the Goddess. Get the second draft done by August, and in the meantime desperately seek agents and publishers.