Okay, so I’ve got to write this morning reflection before coffee, before breakfast, before anything because I don’t want to lose this creepy feeling before I get it down on “paper”.
So I don’t know if I’ve ever written about this or not, but I have a habit of having gangsta inspired nightmares.
Which wouldn’t be so bad, right, if I was like Jackie Brown or somebody and I kicked all the bad guys butts and the good guys all went out to Sizzler afterwards.
No. Nothing like that. These gangsta nightmares normally involve me and my Flint family, and EVERYBODY dies, except me and the bad guys, and normally a miscellaneous cousin or somebody. But everybody dies. And usually, I’m not a bad ass, I’m running for my life, and until this morning, I’ve always managed to escape.
This time, my uncle put me in a secret room in this house that has existed in my dreams I know since at least I was in junior high, so that’s a good 15 years or so that this dream house with the secret room has existed. I should probably build it and live in it.
Anyway, I forget how the thing started, oh wait, okay, I know what happened now. The rest of the house was different this time (the house belongs to my grandfather who lives in Arizona in real life, not that that matters); this time it was a mansion. One of my “uncles” was supposed to kill this guy that came to the door before he could make his way further down the road to this other gangsta’s house. It was payment or something. I don’t know. Not to familiar with all those gangster dealings.
He decided not to kill him, think he punked out, the guy made it to the house, the other gangsta had to kill him, and of course, he came to our house for some answers. Okay, so I was in the backyard, doing what I don’t remember right now, and I saw the guy coming. I did say he right lived down the street, right? I think that’s a no-no in all the gangsta movies I’ve ever seen.
And so I haul it upstairs where there is some non-blog appropriate activity occurring, and I interrupt and tell them we’re all about to die. This is when my uncle stuffs me in the rabbit hole.
In real life, I woke up at some point and was tossing and turning, so I had about 10 different endings before I finally decided I had to get out of bed before I gave myself an ulcer. In most of them though, I spent an unusually long amount of time in the rabbit hole while picturing my relatives rotting away in bloody piles throughout the house.
It was like a cribs episode gone very, very bad.
So yeah, this morning, no peace, no songs, no little birdies (he still hasn’t come), just me and some bloody dead relatives. What a way to start the morning!
Far as yesterday goes, I was highly unproductive. Yup. Highly. I wrote a total of about 3 hours, worked on a little homework, and didn’t even play guitar very much. I just couldn’t focus.
My novel is unraveling itself. I don’t know if it was yesterday or the day before that my main character’s personality completely changed. But it did. I would really dislike her if she was a real person now, but she fits the story much better. Okay, so maybe it had to be done.
But by the time I finished my afternoon writing session yesterday, I was pacing back and forth between the little dining room area and the “sitting room” with my hands on my forehead going, “OH YEAH! That’s what happens” which I suppose is good, if it wasn’t for the fact that every time I said that, I made more writing for myself.
Basically, this trip has been about figuring my novel out more than about writing. And that has been a surprise. I am trying not to feel bad that I’m not writing as much as I should because that’s a surefire way to squelch it all. I’m just trying to let come what comes. Maybe I had to come to seclusion to figure a lot of things out.
Yesterday, I introduced a very important character and tied together two very important pieces after I stopped fighting the fact that I would have to rewrite the majority of what I have and/or add a huge chunk of new stuff.
It’s all coming together. I understand now more what happens, why it happens, what characters aren’t really needed, who my main character really is, (she makes me angry), and where it’s going.
Of course, tomorrow I might be writing, “good god, I’ve thrown the novel in the fire!” hehe. I hope not. And if so, thank goodness I still have e-copies.
So today, I am spending the morning at a nearby town called Orgiva. They have an outdoor market with fresh produce etc. Also, I am in desperate need of contact solution. And this morning in between gangsta’s paradise, my nose ring was hurting. Come to find out, it’s either getting irritated or it’s infected. Great.
I put some honey on it. We’ll see happens.
Okay, I’m off for breakfast and Orgiva. I have 30 minutes before my set deadline. I didn’t expect to write so long this morning. See what happens when I just let go? Hehe