I’ll be picking Mark up at the train station in a few hours (delayed, though, alas); and scarlettina should get here by cocktail hour. Which will all be very delightful and distracting and will probably keep me rather away from the keyboard.
Meanwhile, of course, my writer brain decided to hand me a complication…see, I’m working on this novel, Hobgoblin, a Fae story. Several weeks ago, I got to the point in my editing process where it became important to know the motivations of some of the Fae characters more deeply than “that’s what fairies do.”
I thought hard about it, and wrote up three single-spaced pages about each of the Fae characters and the world in general–its history, the entangled alliances and conflicts between the important characters, etc. It was very intricate and complicated and had lots of parts and pieces. There! Everything made sense.
In the pool yesterday, I realized one more little tweak I’d need to add to make it all make sense.
In the pool today….the whole Rube Goldbergian structure came crashing down under the weight of all that Clever. I finally admitted to myself what I probably knew all along: the whole thing sounded like something somebody made up to make the plot make sense. (I mean, seriously. I’d had kings and queens with no real power, but secretly ruled by this secret committee, which isn’t really secret but is only kinda-sorta secret, and then secret magical spells, that fade over time, and….yeah.)
So now I’m back to “because that’s what fairies do,” which frankly is a better explanation than all that. But I still think I need to do more. So I will pose the question to my back brain and let it cook while I go get distracted with company and events and all that.
Meanwhile, NOW I have to get back to my currently scheduled programming already in progress: Clean All The Things. Cars next. La!