1:37 a.m.
Oh, my goodness, I had such a good writing day.
I am currently working on three separate projects.
One is the sequel to Emma: Ancestor's Tales.
One is Part 2 of Roger's Revelation
The last is a completely different story, one that started with a nightmare a few months ago, and is coming along slowly but nicely. This is the one I added over 3000 words to today.
Roger got zip.
Emma got about 200.
Sorry, guys.
Emma did get about 1000 on July 4th before I ran away from home overnight. So there's that.
I don't always do word counts, but I was inspired by Wil Wheaton recently when I was letting his readers know how his new novel is coming along. So, I kind of wondered what I was getting done.
But I promise I won't make a habit of announcing word counts.
I just miss #WriteAwayJune. I really enjoyed that, and it was a good way to share things about my character, Emma, who occupies a place in my mind all the time these days.
By the way--No, Emma is not me. She is happily married. She has twins. She went to college before getting married instead of after raising her family alone. She's similar to me--that makes writing her easier, honestly--but she likes coming home and cooking, she visits cemeteries, and ghosts actually have things to say to her.
My ghosts just change channels and open all the cupboard doors and leave trails of perfume in my hallway. Oh, one of them snores--no joke, I have heard it and so has my son. But, they don't talk to me, and I have very rarely seen one. I am, however, generally aware of them.
I did visit a cemetery last summer. But I can count the times I've gone to one on one hand, honestly. I used to be a little freaked out by them. I don't know why, I guess I thought there would be a ghost on every grave.
Then it struck me--the cemetery was likely the last place a ghost is going to hang out. I know it sounds all thrilling/spooky to think of ghosts in a graveyard, but why on earth would they stay there? No, I reckon they visit their old homes, check on their families. Maybe they hang out with old friends. Maybe they haunt old enemies. But hang around at their own grave sites? Nah. How boring.
So, last summer I did ask to stop by and see Grandma and Grandpa. Not because I thought they'd be hanging out and know I was there, but just because visiting a grave site does indeed give you a place to go and focus on who they were and what they meant to everyone who loved them.
Other than that, I think they know where I am and what I'm up to when they want to know.
Anyway, Emma knows about graveyards and the lack of ghosts therein. That much we have in common. Other than a few things, though, I am not Emma and she is not me.
Because I have been asked.
Also, the town is and is not my hometown. I have taken liberties. I'm a writer, which means I make stuff up. Still, if you as a reader live there, there are a lot of recognizable features, and it's fine with me if you identify with them.
But know this: no one bullied me like Candy and Cherry bullied Emma. I got bullied a bit--like everyone else I knew--but nothing like that. I never knew anyone who was that mean when I was in school.
(My daughters did, though. They met some doozies in their schools. One I even had arrested for assault. That was fun. Not!)
Emma's family is not exactly my family. My sister is not a rock star. (She is to ME, but you know what I mean.)
No one in my family got married in bare feet. At least, no one I know of. I suppose it's possible.
None of Emma's close friends are based on any of my own friends. They are completely made up.
Some townspeople and classmates may loosely resemble real people--but only the nice ones.
For the record, my hometown has a lot of nice people.
_________________________________________________________________________________
2:21 a.m.
Now comes the time for me to confess that I actually did watch some fireworks on the 4th of July.
I said I might the other day. And I did. But they were indeed professionally done and well supervised and covered by firefighters after a day of careful preparation.
That's how they should be done. Not in the backyard next to my old, old house.
I was in Blackhawk, land on many casinos, and I went up to get away from it all. It's in the mountains, and I have to tell you, it was chilly outside. I didn't last for the whole show, because I'm not smart enough to remember a sweater in July. Ha ha.
But, yes, they were pretty.
They were also freaking loud.
People live up there, and I started feeling really damn sorry for their pets, so I went inside before the finale.
Tried to win the big bucks, but you know how that goes most of the time.
I will say this, though: I came back home with the same money I left with. I had a good dinner and a good breakfast and I played around for hours, so that's saying something.
I had fun. I went to several places, which I haven't done in years. I haven't been up there for a couple of years anyway, for for several years I only visited two casinos out of all the many choices, so I was determined to check some others out.
I went to the Gilpin, where I had an excellent dinner of ribs and fries for a delightful low price--$5.00!! I had leftovers yesterday. What a deal.
I took a couple of shots of the fireworks, of course!
And I did not win a gazillion dollars, but I had fun. I also went to The Lodge, Lady Luck and Isle of Capri. I got to hear some live music at The Wild Card, and I won a lottery ticket there on their spin the wheel get-up they have outside the door to draw you in.
Wouldn't it be cool if that was a winning ticket?
Yeah, right.
So that was my little holiday.
How was yours?
_________________________________________________________________________________
2:55 a.m.
Why am I still up? Oh yeah, my bed is full of people. Company...
_________________________________________________________________________________
Anyhoo...
I'm going to watch a movie.
Until next time!
Good morning!
No comments:
Post a Comment