I know, I know. I slacked. I took a week off from writing, then I was too sidetracked by ANTITYPE's release to do much of anything but obsess. Speaking of which, thank you to everyone for the amazing reviews & tweets & FB posts. I'm so glad you love ANTITYPE as much as I do.
OKAY! So, obviously, according to the above, progress on both novels has been slow. Thanks to the Romantic Times Convention, I got some airport/airplane time in. Here goes.
Adult Scifi: 35,357. I'm not exactly having a tough time with this one, but at the same time I am. The plot is pretty straight forward, so it isn't that. I'm sort of in a weird place when it comes to the voice. I have some thinking to do on it, because I don't think it reflects what I'm capable of doing. I'm considering setting it aside for a short period of time and letting my muse simmer.
YA Scifi: 37,787:) The more I work on this, the more I want to crawl inside the pages and curl into a cuddly, warm ball. I swear. LOVE. True Love.
I’ve been running most of my life. Running from my past, foster homes, the law, and any number of natural dangers this world holds. I’ve also run toward things. My friends. Shelter. The Potomac on a scorching hot day. I’ve run toward a fallen, scraped, and sobbing child the way I used to run for a merry-go-round.But I’ve never run while standing completely still. And it’s as if I’m running in tight spirals. My head swims, and my stomach lurches, and I’m hot, and short of breath.This is what Ian does to me the second his eyes find mine in the elevator. They’re unwavering and warm and invading. They touch me and say things without sound. Without air. With an overwhelming abundance that draws on my frustration, but also with a patience that reminds me to breathe.