I've started writing fiction again. It's been at least a year since I last gave it a go. Maybe more than that, come to think of it. But anyway, belonging to a writers' group works miracles as far as giving me a much-needed kick in the @$$, giving me the will to drag my sorry self to – in this case – my Moleskine notebook, and churn out a short-short story.
I had to take a break when I realized I'm about to kill off a character. The reader will see it from a hundred miles away, and that's okay so long as I do such a thing elegantly and with appropriate bloodlessness. It's a grim story with a grim ending, alluded to rather than played out on stage. It'll need more fleshing out once I get past the character with a target pasted on his forehead and his aforesaid demise. Poor chap. But there's really nothing for it.
All my fiction writing is grim. I wrote a short story for the publication my writers' group will be printing in late summerish, and there's a murder in that, too. A grisly one, involving decapitation. I know, ewwwww. Nothing like losing one's head to ruin a day. Oh, but he had it coming. Big time.
I think I'll put aside the short-short until tomorrow, leaving my characters in limbo whilst I ponder what ground I still need to cover. My male character will live at least one more night, and the other character will be left to her ruminations. I need a break from the incessant presence of the reaper, and a little distance from the story. Maybe then I'll know what must be done with the both of them.
Tomorrow I'll be posting a LONG overdue blogger interview. I haven't forgotten about it, honest. What with vacation and all, it went into the pending file along with a disturbing number of other things. But now it's time to pay the piper.
I hope he takes American Express. We get cash back for using that card.
My only nagging question is "will I ever write a piece in which no one dies?" Only time will tell. One thing I do know, nothing jolly and saccharine will be coming out of my muse. She's in a permanent funk, and that's the way I intend to keep her. If she so much as smiles my way I'll hand her a pink slip. Do they still use those, by the way? Probably not. In modern parlance, I'll kick her to the curb. Why she hasn't left yet I don't know. I don't pay her a penny. Her perks include scowls and listening to much swearing and whining. Second thought, what's not to love?