I look like this – a scary and stylish ghoul – as I’m tossing candy from six feet away into the trick or treaters’ bags.
And yet a little trick or treater, probably about three years old, dressed like a unicorn, stepped into my house so she could go upstairs and pet my cat.
The ghoul did not scare her.
Kids are so funny.
I just deleted about 8,000 words out of the book I’m writing.
It took about 20 minutes.
I may have cackled.
I may have said bad words.
I’m somewhat surprised I didn’t delete the whole dang thing…
I need to go stomp around in my garden now.
I told Simon The Cat my story idea and this is what he thought of it.
(Ya know you have been inside from Covid too long when you talk to your cats as if they can answer back in English.)
Some characters come to me and I know who they are in an instant.
That’s how I felt about Tate in A Different Kind of Normal. I could hear his voice, I could see him.
He’s a kid with an over-sized head with a huge dream and a big heart.
I put in a little history about the legend of witches in the family, a woman named Jaden Bruxelle who doesn’t like to believe all that stuff about herbs and curses, and an irreverent mother who is a soap star actress in Hollywood.
It’s a story about family, love, laughter, and following your dreams no matter how many obstacles are standing smack in the middle of your way.
If ya need a book, it’s on sale for $7.23. Yep. That’s an odd price.
Well, it’s that time again.
I write yet another draft of a book and then I grab my scissors with a semi-crazy look in my tired eyes and start cutting it up. I gleefully use a stapler, too, for good measure.
I usually have cookies on hand to adhere to ‘Cathy’s Healthy Eating Diet’ and I mutter things like, “You are a terrible writer…this is a terrible book…I can’t believe you wrote that, Cathy. Why on Earth did you think that was a plausible idea?…that character is ridiculous, delete him, don’t argue with me he IS ridiculous…you should have been a carpenter and why do you have to eat THAT many cookies?”
So pleasant, that voice inside my head.
The glorious life of a writer continues.
Cathy Lamb All rights reserved © 2011-2024 |
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