Okay, I officially call wow on myself. That bit that I noted a
couple of weeks ago about Stephen King being able write a short story
in a few hours really stuck in my head. So on Saturday when Claudia
and I went out for lunch, I took a notebook and pen with me. As we
ate, I started scribbling on an idea that had come to me a while
back, about a guy who stays young-looking. I didn't stop to talk or
look around or anything else.
I had it halfway done by the time we left, and I picked it back up
when we got home. I finished an hour later. At about 2800 words,
it's short, which is good. Shorter means it has more markets that I
can send it too.
I've hit the point on Roja where I've got to start chopping some of
the old stuff, the good, squirmy images and concepts that I came up
with long ago. It has to be done to make the whole book cohesive
with how I've decided it ends. I think that somewhere earlier I
explained that I started writing this beast years ago, only to put it
on hold until I got some short stories published in order to get my
name out to the public first. The plan was I could take the finished
book to a publisher and say, 'This'll make you money. See, people
are already reading my stuff.' Hindsight being ever so clear, that
might have been a mistake. Of course, when I actually read those
older paragraphs and scenes, the writing is crap. So maybe it
wasn't.
I don't want to just throw all that original stuff away, so I'm going
to save the whole book with a new file name, and then wade into that
fucking thing with a machete.
I've already decided what book is going to be next: The Red Man
Burning
Can't wait to write it.
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