Life here at Chaos Manor is settling down again, though things are still not quite “routine” yet. I don’t like being away from Erica, not out of earshot, anyway, and not long enough to hit the study and write for hours on end. Not yet, anyway.
But I did start a new story a few nights ago, a cop story set in San Francisco, and though it’s slow going I’m finding that, as always, writing is a form of therapy that moves beyond self-expression and on into a deeper realm of introspective analysis. As such, I think the tone will become at once angry and hopeful, because that’s what the past month or so has been. That said, the task becomes to make the story arc less angry and more hopeful, if that’s even possible. I say that because I’m finding that more and more these workings take on a life of their own, that the story begins to take over and carry my thoughts far away from the original intent. That’s probably only interesting to me (if only because I can see the deviations as they form, and of course the end results), but it’s something I never thought about as an academic writer. You outline, then you write. Not so here in fiction-land. An idea forms and it’s just a springboard. You take one road and another more interesting way reveals itself beyond the next bend.
So, a timeframe. I may post a fragment here over the weekend, but probably a complete tale in another ten days or so.
On another note, all the snow is gone and in it’s place another glorious summer. Still lots of rain here in northern Colorado, but wildfires simmer not 30 miles away, closer to Ft Collins and Estes Park. The technicolor sunset above popped up on the road driving home from Steamboat. Breathtaking, but smoke still in the air.
See you soon and, as always, thanks for dropping by.