Once Again Folly

So, I have once again thrown all my attention into something that will inevitably be revealed as folly.

I have given myself one week to finish this little escapade into foolishness, promising myself to have it sent off to its publisher before Thanksgiving barrels into town.

The chance of this getting accepted teeters between absurdity and big, fat joke. But I persist, as always. The tailless dog chasing its stump.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

A Caution to Throw

*carefully wets forefinger, sticks said digit high up in the air and patiently waits for the faintest of breezes*

Little known fact: Throwing caution to the wind takes preparation… and a strong arm.

Yes, I am on the brink of something probably stupid.

I’m indeed teetering on the edge of professional folly.

Despite the well-placed placards in my imagination hamster suite (see yesterday’s post if this is a head-scratcher), I have tentatively decided to consider attempting a try at a quick short story/novella separate and apart from my current career trajectory… and if that isn’t the wimpiest commitment to tomfoolery you’ve ever heard of please review the “declaration” again.

So, in short, I’m thinking of starting a new, brief, writing project to fill the gap until The Hushing Days edits are again possible.

Never mind the fact that if I don’t have the time to edit, I really don’t have the time to create from scratch. Rational thought is overrated.

Now, excuse me. I have a caution to throw.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe 

Folly Embraced

With my hardback edition of Recollections of Life on the Prison Ship Jersey clutched excitedly to my chest, I am ready to meet Thursday with the feverish gusto of a researcher too long from the tomes.

I am a rather silly human being, I know.

Oh well, I am determined to embrace my eccentricities. Perhaps a few of them will even payoff on my first full-body dip into mainstream romance?

The voracious hunger of a “I want to know it ALL!” should give me a leg-up on some of the competition… Right?

If it hasn’t come to your attention yet, I am trying very hard to defend this researching jaunt. I should be writing, but bowing to a little folly in your work shouldn’t be an altogether bad thing. Especially if said-folly could add a bit of colonial-era sparkle to the tale. (Can a 100k novel even be called a tale? Hmm, something to ponder between dusty tomes)

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Perchance to Punish

*the lump of blankets on the couch moves, grumbles incoherently and yawns*

*a rat nest of mussed hair pops out of an afghan fold, your blogger’s eyes eventually follows*

*a scowl is born*

Nightmares are crap.

Unmitigated clusterf**ks of filth.

*your blogger retreats back under the covers*

*muffled, unclear but insistent, the voice continues to grouch…*

I’m thinking the five hour long, marathon bad, bad, BAD dream I had last night is punishment for yesterday’s work…  Well, I suppose “work” is a bit of an overstatement.  I’ll let you judge for yourselves.

I settled down in front of my computer with the intent to put a hurting on Book Three. Knocking down the 500 words I didn’t knock down the day before was at the tip top of my agenda. It was. Really.

*a guilty clearing of your blogger’s throat rumbles from deep beneath the blankets*

*the sheepish confession follows…*

I researched instead.

The research was on Book Three, however, so at least I aimed my folly in the correct direction.

Yep, punishment.

My mind knew I should have been cranking out actual words rather than needlessly investigating atmosphere/history/scenery.

Someday I’ll learn my lesson.

Maybe.

*snickers into the afghan*

Until tomorrow…

Chloe