Still hanging out here at the Monastery, I’m getting a little homesick for the Swamp though. As I mentioned before, cell service is bad up here, and my cell carrier, Surprison’s slogan is “He hears me, he hears me not.” They are the undisputed champs of dropped calls. So I’ve sent Mischievous Raven back to gather some news. I hope he stays away from C. Rock Adile. Those two really don’t get on well. When he and Mischievous get together it gets ugly fast. Of course Wicked has her eye on a new set of
boots courtesy of CR’s hide. Come to think of it not many folks around the The Swamp like CR at all. I’m sure Mischievous will return soon with the goings on.
On the local front the Monks have been very busy in the wine cellar of late. They seem very excited about something. It will be difficult to beat last years bold red wine Exsanguinate The Halls. It had a bloody nose and a delightful coppery aftertaste. Last years holiday white was less successful, Infected Wound, it had a rancid nose and laid heavily on the palate. The good news is with the Monks scurrying up and down the cellar steps we’ve had the place to ourselves.
My Muse and I are revisiting a story I started a while back and then set aside because we got caught up in the editing craze that was going around. You may remember my post from Feb. 10. Editing. Everybody’s doing it, doing it doing it. I’m still working on submissions of my completed novel The Three Misfiteers. I’m sure some intelligent, good-looking, industrious agent will want it for their portfolio soon. In the mean time, back to writing some original material.
This is always the most fun a writer can have. First drafts (at least mine) are full of interesting characters with enchanting repartee. Of corse much of that will have to go in the second draft because it is rife with mistakes, clichés, and misused words. But when the characters get in my head and take the place over, its chaos at it’s most wonderful. So I think I will cut our meeting a little short this week so I can get back to it.
This weeks quote comes from Joseph Conrad
“Of all the inanimate objects, of all men’s creations, books are the nearest to us for they contain our very thoughts, our ambitions, our indignations, our illusions, our fidelity to the truth, and our persistent leanings to error. But most of all they resemble us in their precious hold on life.”