It's too late to write much here. I've been working on what I have ambitiously renamed my Best Fantasy Novel Ever (BFNE). Someone I respect told me in no uncertain terms that if I called it the Crappy Fantasy Novel, that is what it would be. So here's to thinking positively.
I have Pandora set on Lorenna McKennitt and I feel as if I am finding my way back from a dream.
In it, there is this confused young man. Is he bespelled by his father, the Mad King, or by the admiration of the intriguing girl who inhabits his tent. She is as much a prisoner as he in this armed camp. He could set her free, return her to the family that fears for her safety. He could return her to the mother who is convinced her daughter is dead.
With the click of the mouse and the removal of earbuds, I leave the smoky cacophany of an archaic army, and these characters, who are dear to my heart. After all, I have carried them around in one form or another since the eighth grade.
They are saved and waiting for tomorrow, when I will write their immediate fate. Though if I am honest I will see them sooner, as soon as sleep takes me, I will return.