Boxes and boxes of old papers will soon become other forms of paper and will be happier than if they'd wound up at the bottom of a landfill. I still have a box to shred and more boxes to decimate, but I'm finally back to seeing the rug in my apartment. Happiness encompasses me...until I look at my desk and table and see what a mess they are. And don't get me started on my bookshelves; I need at least two more, but those'll have to wait till I'm solvent, again.
POS is beginning to whisper around my mind, again, nudging me to notice and keep its newest indications in my mind. Like a stew simmering on a back burner and sending out whiffs of flavor while still warning, "Not done yet, not quite." For example, reading "The Catholics of Ulster" has increased my awareness of how wrong the character of Brendan's mother is, right now. Which isn't saying much because I don't have her in a lot of what's been written, except in the background. But she was trending one way and she's begun to shift her direction to a better one. A more honest and less overtly symbolic one.
It's the same for Brendan. He's becoming more real, more human in my thoughts. I'm already itching a little to make some changes to reflect this. Like how I was going to have him in the typical long hair and mustache and such of the 70s and 80s, but he doesn't like his hair long. "Too much bother," is his comment. So he's going to have it short. Which messes with my plan to have him unrecognizable when he returns to Derry as a man. We'll have to see how that goes.
I'm back to not knowing for sure how this will turn out. My characters are finding themselves and insisting they each be heard through their own voice. I love it when that happens.
POS is beginning to whisper around my mind, again, nudging me to notice and keep its newest indications in my mind. Like a stew simmering on a back burner and sending out whiffs of flavor while still warning, "Not done yet, not quite." For example, reading "The Catholics of Ulster" has increased my awareness of how wrong the character of Brendan's mother is, right now. Which isn't saying much because I don't have her in a lot of what's been written, except in the background. But she was trending one way and she's begun to shift her direction to a better one. A more honest and less overtly symbolic one.
It's the same for Brendan. He's becoming more real, more human in my thoughts. I'm already itching a little to make some changes to reflect this. Like how I was going to have him in the typical long hair and mustache and such of the 70s and 80s, but he doesn't like his hair long. "Too much bother," is his comment. So he's going to have it short. Which messes with my plan to have him unrecognizable when he returns to Derry as a man. We'll have to see how that goes.
I'm back to not knowing for sure how this will turn out. My characters are finding themselves and insisting they each be heard through their own voice. I love it when that happens.
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