I have a cold today. I was so careful last year, but someone sneezed on me (if I see him I’mma sneeze grandchildren germs right back at him. Family members should stick together, not spread around).
One of the things my BFF and I love to do is make up fantastical stories about fantastical things. If it had been left up to us to name genres of fiction, Speculative Fiction would have become Fantastical Journeys or some other equally nerdy name. Thankfully, no one is asking us.
The other day it was my turn and a story took root in my mind that I am determined to continue building. I’m 765 words in. 765 words into a new story – aish! I need to get back to my novel, but what can you do when an old rock in the middle of the sea is plaguing you? I’m even drawing to get it all out!
The narrator is grandmotherly, I hope, having never had lengthy conversations with my own Grandmothers. It is helpful to have a cold when you’re reading your story back to yourself and your voice is all gravely and wise sounding. I’mma get back to it. Maybe I’ll stop at 1500 words! Yay!
Happy creating y’all!