A Touch of Meek

Psyched myself out yesterday like a real pen-wielding chicken.

Kept circling around Twisted Intent, clucking to the muse that “I’ve got this thing!” Problem was I just kept circling.

*sighs… then sneezes on a stupid chicken feather*

Apparently, I don’t wear confidence well. Meekness will be sported today.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

The Clever Tickle

Being unexpectedly clever always tickles me.

This particularly instance happened yesterday and I’m still childishly giggling over it.

(Yes. It’s going to be one of “those” blogs in which I preen like a heavily medicated peacock. Forgive me. This colorful bout of self-confidence won’t last long, I sadly assure you.)

So, I was working on the final scene of Quiver yesterday. Tying up loose ends, wrapping all subplots up in a pretty bow, when the most deliciously clever idea occurred to me.

*blushes soundly*

Of course, it was not as delicate as that. (If you’ve learned little else from 10 months of this daily blog, you’ve surely learned that Chloe does not do delicate.)

This clever idea of mine didn’t tap me on the shoulder and say “Well, hello there.”

Nope.

This clever idea took me out at the knees and walloped me frightfully about the head with a goose feather pillow. (SIDE NOTE: My clever ideas always come with goose feathers. Maybe that’s why they tickle me so? *smirks cleverly*)

Anyhow, it was just a really great idea.

A perfect ending to a mystery romance… or so the heavily medicated peacock tells me.

*smiles*

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Another Feather in the Old, Gaudy Hat

Do I really need another one of these?

I’m increasingly finding myself playing the awkward role of a “stranger in a stranger land” when it comes to my Revolutionary War-era short stories.

Everything is foreign though still vaguely familiar as I stumble around whacking my way through vast jungles of research.

I’ve ensconced myself so snugly in the romance genre that it’s hard to look at facts and figures without wearing the rose-colored glasses of “happily ever after.”

With every tragic situation I read about I have to catch myself from automatically weaving a love story through the twists and turns. (I’m very good at that, by the way. Whatever the heck that says about me I’m choosing not to contemplate. The last thing I need is another feather of guilt stuck into my already appallingly gaudy hat. *chuckles*).

I keep wandering if I should turn around, scamper back to known ground before I get inescapably lost in this new land of historic fiction…

Or should I keep my head high, march into this new territory proudly wearing my romantic heart on my sleeve?

Is it possible to genuinely meld the two worlds into one that would actually appeal to both audiences?

Or would I only alienate both readerships to the point that neither side would give my story a try?

*sighs heartily*

I apologize for their being no rhyme or reason to this morning’s blog.

Sometimes I just need to clear my head of all the petty concerns I drag around along with my delusions of literary grandeur.

I am so very weird.

*sadly smiles*

Until tonight…

Chloe