Banshee · Writing

Of Drunk Fairies and Banshees

Do you ever get yourself fully into a project and suddenly get a perfect idea for the next one, even though you aren’t finished? I rank this phenomenon right up there with the urge to clean the house when homework is due (my room was never cleaner than the night before a paper was due or a test was coming the next day), or walking the dogs instead of packing. Not exactly the same, because it’s a happy problem to have, this constant distraction of other ideas while I’m trying to execute on the first one. But, still a problem.

It’s been a while since I looked at the Banshee story, partly because life has been a little insane for the past two years and partly because I put all my writing time into finishing the cancer book. So I’m re-reading what I have from the beginning, about 45,000 words or a hundred and some pages, before I write the rest. I’ve also been digging up some older stories to see if any are worth editing and trying to publish, since I’m ready to receive rejections again (there are a lot of rejections in publishing, particularly short stories, because there just aren’t enough markets). I save the best ones on my office wall as motivation. Anyway, I’m distracting myself again.

The point is, I re-read Mitch the Cranky Fairy yesterday and, even after all this time (I wrote it *ahem*-years ago) it still makes me laugh. It’s sort of a wonder, to read something you wrote long-enough-ago to forget all the details, laugh at it, and think “holy shit, did that really come out of my brainpan?” So I took this morning to re-edit, re-write a few problematic sections, and format it for submissions.

I have ideas that Mitchell’s mistakes and accidental adventures could be a series of stories, since he’s a bit of an irresponsible drunk who has pissed off his King. But that will have to wait until the creatures in Lake Superior are settled so they stop sinking ships and eating people.

Also, I have a cello to practice. Oops. My cello teacher kindly waits until after I’m gone on Friday afternoons before he rolls his eyes, I’m sure.

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