Vroom, Vroom, Brain, Brain

There’s a strange set of things that come of scraping the sides of my stomach, as if once the barrel’s emptied the dregs of past distillations come loose in the ladle, float freely in my blood and smack into my brain, cascading surprising thoughts.

I didn’t get a chance to eat today, and my reward is a lightheaded sort of delirium, a sore stomach, and access to several lines of thought I’d not have access to normally.  That isn’t to say that I’ve been recharged or that the thoughts I’m having are necessarily better than those I’d have had if my blood sugar weren’t quite so low, but that they are different makes them worthy enough of writing down.

For as many stuttered sentences and forgotten words (or almost as many) that come from my brain-engine’s under-fueled miss-firing I’m giving short circuits that might prove fruitful for the creation of future stories.  I’ve got a list of phrases and thoughts that might each launch a different line of thinking.  Too bad this month sees my return to a singular item (I did say february was when I’d begin on the first up hill, prow through the ice sort of edits on LiaGH), but all the better for next month (or after) when I have time to return to the realm of short fiction, the place where I’m fairly certain I belong.

I’m in the midst of a short story that is deliberately strange.  Often, what I write seems to confusing to work and so I feel I have to reel it in.  The compromise is often disappointing and all too frequently no less confusing.  I feel as if I’ve bridled myself for no reward.  I’ve done away with the fetters for “The Echoing Canyon’s Long Held Sigh,” and the story’s coming together nicely.  I say nicely, but I mean it in entirely the modern sense of the word.  It is not simple, nor is it resolving itself without loose ends.  Every few hundred words seems the widening opening of a funnel, as if my first thoughts were only the narrowest point.  I say I feel my home is in short fiction but a damned great many of my projects feel to me like the beginnings of longer works.

No copy edit assignments yet, so at least for today I’ve got my time to myself.  Tomorrow will tell about tomorrow, until then, let’s see what I can make of jittery fingers and an overcharged brain.

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