Plots And Protagonists
As well as hunting for land, as well as finding amusement in the circumstances of care work, as well as the half-wild garden and foraging almost hunter-gatherer existence, I write stories. Little ones that I share here (Halloween and Yule, usually) and big ones that go off into books that sometimes people read.
I was busy getting part two of my 'ordinary life' trilogy into order when another story barged in and demanded to be written.
This story, which won't even give me a clear working title, was butting at me like a cheeky goat.
At first I thought it was a return of an old theme - regrets of the dying, who then construct an afterlife that completes their life learning - and it almost is. There were no clear stakes in the story, only a learning curve, until this last week when suddenly the plot burst out, and I found that my main protagonist was not the character I thought at all, and the stakes were everything.
(Part of my childhood was spent wrestling a goat, not sure if that's relevant.)
I forgave the prangs that had jolted me from sleep, I was scribbling notes that pulled together events like the death of a maybe imaginary mermaid, three goddesses on a drinking spree, a naughty chicken, and some excellent cake in many dietary variables.
This year's Halloween story may have to be an excerpt but that's enough spoilers.
This post is me breathing - is the relieved exhale.
Now all I have to do is write the book...
There may be further blog posts with titles about plot holes and tired brains and what is the name of my book please, interspersing the land hunt updates, the amusing/poignant points of care work, the observations of natural phenomena - if there is no contact from me at all assume no news is good news and, if you wouldn't mind, smile with confidence, slowly nodding your head.