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The Middle Eight Manifesto or; Behold! The Secret to Writing!
Well, I’ve reached the middle eight. Almost. At least, I’m cruising just about to the 30K mark, a little more than a third of the way through Rock Revival. Musically speaking that might be where I put a bridge. Or a pre-chorus. Or something interesting. Certainly we’ve established the verse and chorus, and now we’re shaking things up. And hoo-boy are we. It’s been so long since I’ve been this deep in a novel (I did the math; it’s been over two years, between day jobbery, health issues, and pregnancy…) that I’ve absolutely forgotten how characters can throw you for a loop. I had this planned, damnit. WTF?! Maybe part of…
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I write because…
it makes me happy. the voices tell me to. other voices tell me not to. it’s what I know. it’s everything unknown. it’s who I am. it’s everything I’m not. it’s escape. I want to leave something behind. there are too many stories to tell. there are too many secrets to share. there are too many zombies at the window. it keeps me company. it saves me from reality. it brings me closer to the real world. the machine is already primed. everything’s already been written. it might be better if I write again. it’s the best of me. it’s the worst of me. it’s the greatest freedom I know.
