It's interesting how things turn out.
I don't know if you believe in coincidence or not, or maybe you call it Karma, or "what goes around comes around" or whatever, but it just happened today.
After wrapping up Campground Awakening (thank you very much for all the nice comments you all made, by the way,) I took a couple of days off and then dipped into the projects folder to see what might talk to me.
I picked one and wrote on it for three days. Then I kind of hit a snag. To be truthful, there are two or three ways the plot could go and I couldn't make up my mind which one I wanted to pursue. Experience has told me I should think about that for a while.
So I dipped back into the projects folder and picked another one that had the working title "Talk Dirty To Me Too"
Read Dirty To Me was a collaboration with Peaches. We actually read it to each other during the editing process. Let me tell you, if you've never tried that, pick somebody you like being excited about and try it. The guy reads the guy parts and the girl reads the girl parts. It can get very interesting.
Anyway, we kicked the idea around of writing a sequel and Read Dirty To Me Too was the title we thought of. No details, really, just a clever title.
Then, during the feedback on Read Dirty To Me, a regular reader who goes by the handle "Drunken Dwarf" wrote and suggested another way that reading to someone might be worked into an erotic tale. I dumped his idea into the projects folder in the Read Dirty To Me Too file. There it lay since then.
So I opened the file and reviewed the notes and started writing. It grabbed me and I had my next project.
The only problem was that what developed wasn't true to the Read Dirty To Me concept. So I played around with various other titles, none of which grabbed me.
The original idea Drunken Dwarf had fronted seemed like it might be a three to five chapter story in the stroke tradition. And I started it out that way, but the idea that ended up on the page wasn't one you could just hurry up.
Which is my way of saying that it got longer ... and longer ... and longer. Then it seemed incomplete where I stopped. I get a lot of mail saying I quit too soon on stories. I don't agree, of course, but it's always there in the back of my mind because so many people say that.
So I started again and took it further. The Dwarf's three chapter idea ended up being nine chapters. And, wouldn't you know it, about two thirds of the way through the title came to me. It's called Don't Ask, Don't Tell, but it has absolutely nothing to do with the military, other than a mention here or there. I finished it today. I shipped it off to Michelle to proofread and contemplated taking another couple of days off before dipping into the projects folder again.
About an hour later I got an email from who else but Drunken Dwarf, berating me (on behalf of all my readers, according to him) for not doing any blog entries for a month and causing people to wonder if I had died.
I'm old, folks, but I'm not a doddering fragile husk of a man who might drop dead at a moment's notice. It just takes time to write a new story.
Anyway, I thought the coincidence, or Karma, or whatever it is that caused the very person responsible for the recently completed project to write to me, might be interesting.
That's why I don't write blog entries every week. This isn't twitter. You don't care what I had for breakfast. Telling you I'm working on a story isn't news. I'm always working on a story. If I'm not actively writing it, I'm thinking about it.
So for all those readers Drunken Dwarf claimed to be fronting for: Go to the library. Get a good book and read it. What I write will show up eventually, and it will be there for as long as Laz will tolerate all this, or until he runs out of dough.
And if I have something to say that might conceivably be interesting, I'll write about it.
Hang on. There's a Three Musketeers candy bar on the desk.
[two minutes later] Mmm that was good. Better go check my blood sugar, though.
[two minutes sixteen seconds later] 116, which will do nicely. Now the dog wants attention.
[one minute thirty-three seconds later] She didn't want attention. She wanted the candy bar. I've been thoroughly licked clean.
Oops, out of ice in my drink.
[three minutes twelve seconds later] That's better. Who wants warm apple juice?
Damn! I have to pee. Sorry.
[four minutes later] Forgot to wash my hands.
See what I mean? Who wants to read that shit?