Monday should see a return to regular programming. I'm definitely starting to fill better, even had a fairly busy week. The best bit being, I finished the novel - not two hours ago. Of course, finished doesn't mean finished. But the second draft is done, it's taken on a shape that I like, and it's so very different to anything else I ever written at novel length.
Now, I just need to give it a spit and polish, while I work on my redraft of the Players (filling it's various gaps and logic flaws as I go), and I will then have managed to finish two novels this year. Then it's onto a slight re-imagining of Roil, and the next Players book Drama Queen (while I try and sell the first) and Empire December and then the final Players book Dramaturge.
I've been quite flat of late, feeling that I wasn't very productive at all. But looking back it seems I've done alright, even if it's meant only tiny steps. A tiny step's better than nothing (even tiny missteps are, well, I hope; they're certainly better than giant missteps).
Here's a bit of the World's a Stage, it's totally out of context, remember it's only an early draft, oh and chattery Tuonela is a swan that has just helped Beth escape from the mad and malicious Scripteditors.
And Beth was barely hearing her, but looking at the great bulk of the guide ropes, thicker than skyscrapers, edged with clouds. Then down at the Stage Worlds and the thin mountain-edged line of the Traverse. And then to the right, or really, the front of the stage. She could see the hushed vastness of the universes beyond the Proscenium Arch. For a moment she could almost see Brisbane and her parents, then it became too big and all she saw were spiralling worlds, and the brilliance of stars and the darkest darkness that lives between them. It took her breath away.
"Freedom!" Tuonela cried. "Let me take you anywhere."
"Home. I want to go home." Beth pointed beyond the Proscenium. Tuonela nodded, she flapped her wings hard and flew, fast and straight, and drew no nearer the edge. They flew for hours and the Arch grew no closer. At last, the Swan sighed.
"I cannot. I am sorry, but I cannot. The edge recedes at precisely the speed I approach it, and even I cannot outfly myself."
Beth pressed her face in Tuonela's dark feathers, her tears were icy against her face.
"The Oaks then," she said. "I need to find the troupe."
"That's wise, " Tuonela dipped her wings, and started a long slow turn. "A powerful player like you, alone. If you don't find your Troupe fast. Things will find you. And not just my erstwhile masters, there are all manner of imps of the peverse. Everyone wants to have influence. Everyone wants to be a star."
I don't, Beth thought. But she was beginning to understand that she would have to change her mind, if she wanted to go home.
"And what about you?" Beth asked.
"All I want is the sky!"
Then it was just the rope and the air and the Traverse drawing nearer, and Tuonela flying like a dart towards the Oaks. And it felt good to be going somewhere that she had been before.
And, for the now, Beth had to be satisfied with that.