Sunday, September 16, 2007


Every body wants to have that one person they mean the world to. The person who puts you ahead of everyone and everything else in their lives. When you're a kid, it's usually a parent but as you grow, friends, then lovers fill that void. Sometimes, a furry/feathered/finned/scaly creature is the one that lives and breathes for your existence.

It was the scaly thought that brought me to Nea. Not all demons have scales but plenty of them do. Nea has turned her back on scaly creatures, has blocked herself from love, acceptance and dependence. Not as much as she thinks though because Clio is not only her conscience but that one creature in all existence who puts Nea first. The little weevil has an attachment to the demon/nymph that supersedes all else. Nea is her priority.

As all others have dropped out of her life, Nea has become more emotionally dependent on the weevil. But she is oblivious until something threatens Clio's existence.

I thought I wasn't writing because I've been so exhausted. That's definitely part of it. I didn't feel stuck or stressed because my deadline had whooshed by so colourfully. There are so many hours in a day and I have to make the paying jobs the priority.

I realize that this time away from the characters gave me a fresh perspective as my brain has slowly adjusted to less sleep. Interesting patterns and colors dance before my eyes. Creatively, this is a good thing.

Update - I still haven't found enough hours in the day, and I've added a library certificate course to the mix. But last week's meeting, and the advice to Me that every scene should serve at least dual, if not more, purpose helped me slowly navigate my way to another realizations for this scene. I'm going to take away from much-needed sleep to see if I can get the nebulous thoughts on to paper. I'm going to hard look at my schedule and see where I can drop in the occasional nap. That's the only way my brain is going to get back into the groove where connections are made. Auto-pilot is not the mode in which to write a book. Or work either. Thank Bob I'm not a brain surgeon.