(no subject)
Jun. 6th, 2008 10:58 pmI'm starting on a new Alkyone story.
I dunno, maybe I'm tired. I do have a headache. Luke is at a birthday party -- his first sleep over, and his absence makes me feel jumpy. My hormones are probably screwy (again).
But I just feel like, you know, what's the point? M'kay, I can write some, that is, some of it is pretty ok. I posted the last bit on Baen's Bar, and got one crit that said "yum!" and one that said "huh?" But I mean, really, why the hell do I wanna bang my head against this?
"The smell ... the smell of books, Donna ..."
That's it, right there. I want a piece of that, to be that; I want to be that 'there is nothing else that fits so perfectly in my palm' feel, that rich, dry taste on the tongue, and the smell, gods, the smell. I want to be there as the eyes and fingers trace along the spines, be there as the first pages are turned, at the first sigh, first chuckle, first tear.
kphoebe is right, I would indeed sell my soul for it, and dance, soulless, in joy of being there, in books.
I dunno, maybe I'm tired. I do have a headache. Luke is at a birthday party -- his first sleep over, and his absence makes me feel jumpy. My hormones are probably screwy (again).
But I just feel like, you know, what's the point? M'kay, I can write some, that is, some of it is pretty ok. I posted the last bit on Baen's Bar, and got one crit that said "yum!" and one that said "huh?" But I mean, really, why the hell do I wanna bang my head against this?
"The smell ... the smell of books, Donna ..."
That's it, right there. I want a piece of that, to be that; I want to be that 'there is nothing else that fits so perfectly in my palm' feel, that rich, dry taste on the tongue, and the smell, gods, the smell. I want to be there as the eyes and fingers trace along the spines, be there as the first pages are turned, at the first sigh, first chuckle, first tear.