It's been at least two months since I've written anything new. That's not to say my plate remained free from writing. Oh no. The last few months were spent editing "The Unpeople" in hopes of making it agent worthy. More recently work has left me too stressed and exhausted to stay productive and creative in the evenings. On top of that, I've been piecing together a working outline for my NaNoWriMo novel "Ride for Life."
Those who know my writing know that Ride for Life is not a new story for me. However, those same few readers know that Ride for Life has never reached further than a few introductory chapters. Waiting in the wings are the chapters I WANT to write so much.
Because of this realization yesterday that I've produced nothing new in so long, I set out to write a short story for no other reason than to get my creative blood flowing freely again. What resulted from this is something I'm both proud of and disturbed by.
I'm proud because it's a true Happily Ever After story. Something my mind struggles to produce. Freud would more than likely have much to say in regards to that wall I can't seem to climb over. But no more!
I'm disturbed because the content is far more sexual than I'm accustomed to writing. That by itself is not disturbing. However, I'm worried as to where this might lead from here. This also leads me to my next problem: Should I post the story????
Not tonight. But perhaps soon, I will post "A Promise Made."