I have no idea how it happens, but the ride home from Reno takes at least twice as long as the drive out. Space time continum, worm hole, alien abduction distracted by shinny object. Or something.
WorldCON turned out to be a very interesting, very educational experience. Right now I'm in the midst of my second Young Adult book. This one is dystopia (sort of) and therefore leans in the Science Fiction direction. However, the publishers at WorldCON were looking for the hard core, adult sci-fi. I did talk to a couple of editors that take YA, which I count as a huge plus. Thanks go to my writing group for tossing me out of my comfort zone like a baker tosses pizza. I've sent my query to one editor, and have three to go.
What's new? Yesterday I had the most bizarre thing happen to me. As I sat in my writing chair, one leg up over a wobbly arm and my laptop balanced on the other, I poised my fingers above the keyboard and dropped them in anticipation of writing a kick butt action scene.
Hello? Fingers? Go fingers!
Type! Type like the wind! Use those short sentences. Let the blood fly. Be free!
I'm sure I scrunched up my brow and stared down the white screen before me. Glancing away, only to watch the keyboard out of the side of my eye had no discernible effect. Affect? Whatever, it didn't help. Neither did sitting there, checking my e-mail, getting snack or changing my laundry.
I wondered if I'd caught some rare anti-action disease in Reno. Action is my fun time in writing. Bring on the fight. And yet, last night, I finally sat down to type again, and found myself ready to write the emotional backlash that follows said action scene. Shock, death, betrayal, anger and (yes, believe it Melissa) crying.
What? What's wrong with me? (No, it's not “that time” so don't even start.)
Is this a turn in my writing? Will I ever be able to type an explosive, exciting, action packed fight scene again? Or will my writing from now on be restricted to brutal emotion and sappy angst?
If so, will someone please smack me? Oh wait, Sensei promised an “epic” work out tonight. He had that smile on his face that makes me wonder if I should just go to bed instead of class. Unfortunately, I promised I'd come back. If you don't hear from me for a while, it's because I can't lift my arms.
Oh, 48,500 words down!