The Brute Instinct

When a writing idea comes to me, I can’t just jot it down and push it aside for later consideration. Oh, no. Once I’ve caught its scent, I’ve got to hunt the poor beast down and tackle its struggling carcass to the ground.

Only after vacuuming my authorial nose up and down its innocent, little body and vowing to devour it later will I let the terrified critter go.  

Either my OCD is at play here or I’m a closet brute. Neither, I fear, are appealing options.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

The Martian Carrot

I’m on the scent.

Like bloodhound nose to the ground, floppy tail to the air, I am on the trail of something bloody exciting!

In the nascent days of the hunt for novel #19, I have stumbled across a juicy historical find that is ripe for literary license.

Not wanting to spend another FIFTEEN months writing a single novel (wouldn’t mind if I was getting paid, but I’m not, yet, so no), I’ve decided to stick to historical romance set around the American Revolution. Since I have the post-Colonial basics down in my head, I can concentrate all the researching efforts on the novel-specific details.

In more colorful words: instead of having to learn how to live on Mars this writing season, I can concentrate all my labors on a more focused activity, like the growing of Martian carrots.

…

Ok, now that this post has denigrated into alien vegetation, I think I’ll just go.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe