So I’ve locked my manuscript up in the basement, under lock and key, chained up in a folder. More like sitting on my desktop and cloudthingy, but psychologically and methodically, I am growing this thing in my dark and murky unconscious. It’s a shared space down there. There two other books, only one of which I ever intend to release. They are accompanied by 10-15 “short” stories and fragments, which I believe may one day clean up right enough to surface, but who really knows. There’s also unknown number of non-fiction ramblings and essays, from college, and also a few chunks of half-realized poetry.
You must let things rest. There are a number of things which require a resting period, like dough, good conversation, seasons, the sun, human beings, bears, seeds, love, my dogs (often). But while those things rest, I keep churning out my attempts at fiction, that ultimately will join the rest, floating below the surface. Until the day I brave the light, and display my pretties for the world to see!
I put up a new 2.5 words on a new, short story, brining the total over 5k. It’s still not finished, and I’m not sure how to finish it, and that was basically my limit on the story. I feel the story is overflowing and refuses to be shoved into 5k words, at the same time, I don’t know if I can commit to a whole other book right now…but I am enjoying the new story, a lot actually, and in reality connects to some of my other stories, but I just want a dense short story, to just wet these savage’s appetites, get the hook in ya know? Ah anyways…that’s what I’m thinking about right now…does size matter? Chime in folks!