I finished the book I was reading yesterday, and was going to start on another one (my mom read everything Harlan Coben has written, so I thought I'd try one myself), but never got to it. I didn't even take a nap this visit, unlike the other times I've come here (I fully believe it's because I didn't wake up early on Tuesday like I usually do, and my body didn't insist on falling asleep once I'd reached my destination. But even with that extra hour or so, I didn't manage to record any audio (I'd considered doing an eBay Horror where I read an email from some a-hole I printed out back in November or so). I didn't finish editing my Patreon address either, and it's the third of September today, so I really should make that a priority.
I read more this trip than the last two. The Coben book is very readable, for lack of a better word, with a simple, all-too-relatable protagonist, and a couple of movie references to make me feel right at home. If I really enjoy this book, maybe I'll end up checking out the same books I got for my mom during the pandemic (of course, it might take me the rest of my life to read through the same ones she breezed through in the months before and since the library re-opened).
I wrote up a paragraph last night summing up how I felt my current story should end.* I hope that the finish product is good, but I also want it done with so I can move on to the next project (I was thinking of the "Lara and the Witch" story I started earlier this year [where she falls in love with a boy, but can she trust it?], and I really wanted to sit down and work on it, despite being in the middle of a Jimmy Stewart Western on the DVD player. I love it when I am passionate or excited about a writing project . . . but I fear that the many days in between such passion are what determine a true writer or just a butthole with a pen.
I admire writers who really make a go of it, who are successful and work hard. I'd like to be one of them. There are writers, I'm aware, that are successful, and yet are hacks, or lazy, or don't work much, or just got lucky, and I wonder if I'd like to be one of those. When I read a book that is poorly-written or bloated or full of trite storytelling, I often judge that writer pretty harshly, and it's rare that I'll ever go back to somebody that I get that impression of (despite whatever awards or fanbase they may rack up).
At the same time, I recognize that not every story I have written has been a good one, that my dialogue isn't always great, that my characters may not be three-dimensional or unique . . . and yet, the writing is still mine, and indicative of my talents as a storyteller. I don't know if I can mitigate the two viewpoints, except to continue to work hard, and see if there are more good stories than bad ones.
Sit-ups Today: 166
Sit-ups In September: 416
Push-ups Today: 27
Push-ups In September: 78
I came home at the usual time, but it gets dark earlier, so it seems later. It's funny that every trip has ended sooner than I wanted it to (that one day notwithstanding), but I guess that's how vacations/weekends/retreats are supposed to work. I'm just fortunate that I've never come into conflict with another family member that wants to be there on a Wednesday or Thursday (my brother had been there since the last time I had, setting traps and filling up the hummingbird feeder, but nobody else had spent the night).
As I drove past the lake, I pulled over and took this video, hoping you could see the many, many fish jumping and flopping around out there (the center section is the only place now deep enough a fish can survive). A month from now, they'll all be dead . . . just like you.
Words Today: 2533
Words In September: 4748
*Because neither Natalie Whitmore nor Mason Bradley appeared in the first story I wrote, which takes place on the same second of July as this one (also, Marshal Latham's story, "Till Death Do We Meet," takes place that night), I thought I had to find a way to explain their absence--whether somebody switched shifts with Meeshelle, or Natalie called in sick, or Mason has died, I can't decide. But I did wonder what would happen if Mrs. Bice, the owner of the bed and breakfast, found out that a clerk (Natalie) told somebody about the hauntings so they would come there that day. Would she fire Natalie? Would she make her take the weekend off, as a sort of probation (that happened with me on a job, and sure enough, after the weekend, my probation was made permanent)? Could the old woman afford to lose any employees on that night, of all nights? I haven't figured out the answer yet, but I don't suppose anybody would fault me if I just had Mason on lunch break when "True Ghost Encounter" took place.
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