This is exceptional...and I discovered it doing research for a short story set in Annecy, France.
Agnes Obel, Riverside:
The things Griffin Barber thinks about when he's thinking, which is not necessarily often. And they are my thoughts and opinions, not, in any way, those of the Department I work for.
Showing posts with label Dreams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dreams. Show all posts
Monday, April 16, 2012
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Writing Some
So, back on Bridge of The Broken, and writing some good stuff. At least, much more so than I have been able to put up in the last few months.
It seems that every Spring is a slow period for me, creatively. I hope I can overcome such things if I am ever well-established enough to leave the day jobbery.
A kid can dream, can't he?
For now, toil.
It seems that every Spring is a slow period for me, creatively. I hope I can overcome such things if I am ever well-established enough to leave the day jobbery.
A kid can dream, can't he?
For now, toil.
Friday, March 5, 2010
Woke up this morning...
Not sure what woke me at 0145, but I tossed and turned for an hour, then gave it up for a bad cause. I decided to get up and see what I could crank out.
It's been about a month since I consistently sat and banged out words on The Last Captain. I had been doing some work on refining a section or two, but hadn't really thumped down new stuff or drawn closer to being finished with the thing. In an hour I put down nearly a thousand new words. They feel right, but may need some expansion.
It is interesting to me that I very rarely recall dreams I have. When I go to bed I tend to lay there and think over the last few days, paying particular attention to any behavior I would like to beat myself up over. I think that's what happened tonight. I hadn't self flagellated enough before falling asleep, but my subconcious continued to hoe that row. Once the guilt had been turned to perfection, I woke, and was spurred to write.
Speaking of which:
The Last Captain needs some more work...
It's been about a month since I consistently sat and banged out words on The Last Captain. I had been doing some work on refining a section or two, but hadn't really thumped down new stuff or drawn closer to being finished with the thing. In an hour I put down nearly a thousand new words. They feel right, but may need some expansion.
It is interesting to me that I very rarely recall dreams I have. When I go to bed I tend to lay there and think over the last few days, paying particular attention to any behavior I would like to beat myself up over. I think that's what happened tonight. I hadn't self flagellated enough before falling asleep, but my subconcious continued to hoe that row. Once the guilt had been turned to perfection, I woke, and was spurred to write.
Speaking of which:
The Last Captain needs some more work...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)