The Click and the Dead
Countdown over. Should I have reached the conclusion, it would have meant the end to hummingbird feeding season. It also would have meant that I must not have a writer's soul by not feeling the pain of the absence of writing for nearly six months. As it is, I'm putting my chair into fighting position against the desk and firing from all pens. Bring on the vivid verbs, annihilate anemic adverbs, assess active adjectives, and look for muscle beach, iron pumping nouns.
Did you read the story about the protagonist who had no motivation?
Probably not. And it ain't happening here either.
3 comments:
Good luck and good words to you, Rick.
Hummingbird feeding season. How… mundane. :-P
Now that I think about it, doesn't the typical mystery novel start out with an unmotivated protag? Then the phone rings, or there's a knock on the door…
My feeder has been taken down and cleaned for next season. And my writing has . . . entered some sort of season, too.
Go for it, Rich. Anyone compulsive enough to actually no what day it is, let alone . . . well, you have my blessings.
Post a Comment