But why are the words gone?

There seems to be a dearth of writing posts around these parts. I was lulled by the summer break, and forgot that sometimes, in the long semesters, I actually work at work, and sometimes it's even tiring.

I'm still trying to sort out my pov questions in TDC, but Adam is being helpful and volunteering for malaria, so I can at least start writing those bits. Isyllt is still sulking over the arrest business.

"The Tenderness of Jackals" is whining at me, but I'm not sure how I want to handle the metaphysics of it. It's a plotless little thing, but it needs a structure.

Another still-nameless story is also chewing on my ankle. I have no idea what it's about, but there's a scene in which a character wakes up to something in his room at night and immediately thinks "holy shit, the byakhee got loose!". It turns out to be his creepy housemate, though. For that scene alone, I will find it a plot. I wish the silly thing would stop trying to look like a music video in my head.

(no subject)

Ich will nach Deutschland.

Le siiiigh.

And to think, some people need drugs to simulate the endorphin highs and subsequent crashes that my brain provides for free.

Something like content

"The Garden, The Moon, The Wall" is live now at Ideomancer . I am ToC mates with the loffly buymeaclue, truepenny, and haddayr!