July 24th, 2008
Rio started… happening, I guess… in my life, a few times a week, sometimes with Jacqueline, sometimes alone. Maybe he’d always been there, curled up in that particular way of his, and I’d only just started noticing. Either way I was always happy to see him, and he always had some new, unpredictably wonderful fascination to share.
One night at Pilades, he slid up beside me and took a seat on the edge of my table, smiling just a little too much. I tried to ignore it, but he tugged insistently at the top of my newspaper, like a kitten who’s done something endearingly naughty and very much wants you to know. “Hello again,” he said, practically singing with happiness. “The Times? That’s a very good paper. I approve. And I have something to show you.”
“Rio, you are a strange, strange human being.” I folded my paper back together, shaking my head. “What do you want?”
Still smiling, he stuck out his tongue at me, then nodded over to the pinball machine. “I think she likes me.” The Billionaire’s Club listings began to scroll, glowing orange in the dim corner of the room.
I ran over to look.
July 22nd, 2008
Even boiling water grows cold without a fire.
Real Artists Ship.
Writing is like riding a bicycle. You never completely forget how to do it, but if you stop pedalling, and coast, sooner or later you fall off.
Telling yourself these things is easy; really knowing them is hard. Living them is nearly painful. It’s always been one of the most frustrating parts of my life as a writer: I write in little bursts and pieces, mostly when I’ve just barely woken up and my dreams are still dying in the morning light. Some of my friends can write a few thousand words in a session; I count myself lucky if I clear a few thousand words in a month. Even keeping that in mind, though, having dry spells that long makes me uncomfortable. It’s bad discipline.
I’ve been gone for a month now, and I don’t really have much of an excuse. I let my water get cold. I stopped pedalling for a while, and I fell off.
I’m back, though, or at least I think I am. I have a few projects burning, most importantly the next Tybalt story; I promised someone I would have it finished by YaoiCon.
Sit tight; I’ll try to share something soon.
