I can hardly believe it’s September already and I’ve had my blog for THREE months now! I feel like it was just yesterday that my little piece of the prehistoric world went up on the internet. I guess it’s because I’m so caught up in my characters’ worlds that I forget about my own.
But now it’s a new month and a new season. However, fall in the createtus period is a little different. Your trees shed bright red leaves while our skies shed bright red meteors. You carve pumpkins and we carve pencils. You prepare for cooler weather whereas here…well, in the jungle we don’t have fall, winter, summer, or spring. Our seasons are:
But as cold-blooded as I am, it doesn’t bother me too much. Leaving the topic of weather, before I sound like one of those classical novelists who describes weather like it’s a piece of antique furniture for sale on eBay, I’ll proceed on to other noteworthy events.
Last month I told you about how Mariposa was rewriting her book (again). She spent a whole day rereading K. M. Weiland’s articles on structure and arcs, followed by a whole day of note taking and asking herself questions (mostly about her story, but occasionally about her sanity). All of this led to quite a lot of ceiling staring until an idea sparked and nearly caught her brain on fire (don’t worry, I always keep an extinguisher handy).
30,038 sweaty words and a plot that’s finally structured properly, thanks to my assistance. Now she has a book she can be proud of—or until she gives it to her editor for shredding. Either way, I’m glad it’s over. At least, it’s sorta over. Because next she’ll be revising the already-revised sequel and the whole ordeal will start all over again. I better go sharpen all her pencils…
If that wasn’t enough to give me a migraine, she committed a crime that nearly landed her in jail.
She joined Facebook.
I was ready to toss her in a cell and throw away the key. Because 1. All Facebookers are loonies. 2. She vowed she’d NEVER join Facebook.
I can’t blame her though, since she was blackmailed into it by some gang called “Saury Embers.” Then they tortured her in a FB group chat.
However, seeing that she joined against her will, she’s resolved to do as little Facebooking as possible. Which means she doesn’t like anything (but she doesn’t hate anything, so you have to give her bonus points for that), change her profile photo according to each day of the week, or post about how many times she went to the grocery store to buy a bag of chocolate-covered pecans. She’s a silent, floating person whose sole goal is to stalk everyone—which is why I’m not including a link to her account. Then you might be conned into sending her a friend request. And she might accept. And if she accepted, she would stalk you, and you don’t want that. Not when she has a dinosaur assistant who has her password and will use it to hack into all your accounts so you can’t access Facebook and will get back to writing like you should be doing.
What can I say? I’m a helpful dinosaur.
How has your month been? Have you finished any writing projects? What is something you vowed never to do that you ended up doing anyway?