I haven’t been on here lately.

I’ve been lost in my thoughts. I have been postponing writing my book. I have been getting Kringle in the Night and Gaia’s Hands ready. I have been wrestling with my heart. I’ve been trying to figure out my male protagonist in Walk Through Green Fire. I have run away from writing.

Today I’m on, but it’s my day off for getting my other cataract out. The surgery has just been done, and I’m seeing somewhat better. I hope the vision gets much better much soon, or I will still have to wear glasses.

Falling in love with characters

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

This is what I need to do with my characters in Walking Through Green Fire. Dane Prince — otherwise known as Prince Dane — is fae, minor royalty and a somewhat unusual member of his race. He has wearied of intrigue in Faerie, suspecting its has substituted for meaning now that the human world no longer believes in Faerie. He wants to find one who believes in Faerie; moreover he wants to leave Faerie.

He’s probably the perfect male for Nina the librarian — a bit fey (of course), introverted, mischievous, remaining honest while indulging in double-speak. Don’t think of Nina as his green card marriage, although there is a sense of that. Oh, and he’s pretty hot, which Nina is not expecting. He scares her a bit with his intensity.

Maybe it would help if I wrote a sex scene first?

One thing at a time

A good thought, but I can’t think of what to start first. Maybe I should just concentrate on getting my vision better. Hmm…

Excerpt from my work in progress

After work, I strode down the hill on the curved path which led from campus to the street that I called home. The trees on either side of the path cast cooling shade. I felt the air — slightly damp, perfect on my skin —

I filled up on the sights and sounds of June in my small town, a place built in a valley and up the hills that surrounded it. I lived at the bottom of a hill in a Victorian one-story cottage, whitewashed, with delicate gingerbread edging the roof. Surrounded by Victorian and Italianate houses, it stood out, not the least because it was surrounded by a riotous cottage garden I carefully tended myself. An idyllic setting in an idyllic town, a Sleepy Hollow in reality.

I reached my house and walked through the driveway to the back door and unlocked the door to be greeted by my long-haired ginger cat, Montrose. He stropped my ankles, then stood on his hind legs and waved his fluffy front paws in the air. I didn’t blame him for wanting to be fed; I myself was hungry as it was 5:30 PM. I opened a can of his favorite cat food, dumping it into the bowl. He pranced around the bowl, then tucked into it while I replaced his water with fresh.

My life followed the patterns of my days and weeks, the cycles of the year. Early mornings with Montrose and breakfast, followed by a day at work at the library as a cataloger, then an evening watching reading while NPR was playing on the stereo, and hearing the students walk down the hill toward the bars and back again when the weekend arrived. Sometimes I could hear them singing Top 40 tunes at the tops of their lungs as they made their way past my house. It didn’t bother me; it was just another sound like the spring frogs and late summer cicadas and the sound of snow plows in the winter.

In the summer, I spent as much of my time out in my yard as I could. I have built myself a refuge in my yard, and maybe that is odd. My yard, an old English garden which I researched before developing it, surrounds me with a riot of flowers. It takes a lot of tending the garden not to have it revert to grass and weeds. It surrounds my house like a gaily colored blanket, and the birds and butterflies visit it in riotous numbers.

It was just the sort of afternoon, I decided, to enjoy my backyard. I had a small brick patio just big enough to hold two chairs and a table that looked like they had come from an ice cream parlor. The garden wrapped in a circle around the back of the patio and to the brush line at the edge of my small yard.

A glass of wine, I thought, would be lovely, and I brought a bottle of Reisling and a glass to the table and sat down. I could hear the ever-present birds and my wind chimes, and a car in the distance meandered down my street in no particular hurry. I sipped the wine alone.
And that was the problem, wasn’t it? I thought. Alone.

I took another sip of wine. I would have to get that vintage again, made by one of my favorite wineries in the Finger Lakes. I wished I had some cheese, maybe a wheel of Brie, and some crackers, because the wine left me a little light-headed. What, I asked myself, was the problem with that? I had nothing to do in the evening.

And then I looked across the yard, to where the back of the border created a wall against the treeline. The birds fell silent, as if they held their breath. The afternoon light shone through the trees and illuminated a patch where hollyhocks stood in red and pink and black, and blue catnip and fuzzy rose campion bloomed in front of them.

I saw a flash of alabaster touched with gold, a glimpse of a bare torso, then a shimmer of air.
Then, as I stared, nothing.

Writing Lull

I need to get back into writing.

I think the current novel is scaring me because I have to write sex scenes and I so want them not to be cliche.

I could start writing another novel and go back to Walk Through Green Fire. Or I could just buckle down and write it.

I don’t have as much time now that the semester has started, but that may be a good thing — I am sometimes at my most productive when other things compete for my time.

I wish I could put a poster of my novel cover in my office, but that would probably be considered a conflict of interest. I’m okay with that; I need to be as focused on the job as possible, not daydreaming about my other job.

At any rate, I have to get the two parts of my life into balance soon.

Starting with a Character Sheet:

Prince Dain
? • Faerie/Oneonta
Role in Story: Male Main Character/Love Interest

Goal: To woo Nina — but then what?

Physical Description: alabaster skin with a bit of a gold tint. Red-gold, wavy hair. No beard or body hair.

Personality: Playful, highly focused but ephemeral. To be in his focus is to be the only person in his life, but he has other things to focus on and he’s just as intense. He seems to be always in the present; commitment isn’t in his vocabulary because it’s not a fae thing. But he keeps coming back to Nina.

Occupation: Prince. What else?

Habits/Mannerisms: He gestures in the air as he talks, as if he’s trying to shape his stories from mist.

Background: a Prince of Faerie. Nowhere near to the throne; considered an eccentric dilettante as he works with craftsmen and creates beautiful wood and metalwork. He also spends a certain amount of time flirting with the border between Faerie and Earth,

Internal Conflicts: The pull toward Nina

External Conflicts: With the woman who wants him back.