So this is the end…or is it?
Aaaarrrruuugggh!!!!!!!
I wish they didn’t.
Really.
So I’m writing more chapters at the end of a series and at 10:00pm, I…
hmmm….what’s a good word to describe temporary brain death?
“Stopped suddenly” doesn’t cover it, so I’m going to use one word that seems more fitting.
FROZE.
Yes, that’s it! I had a bad case of FROST WRITE!
So I dove, head first into a bag of cheddar and sour cream baked potato chips trying to find solace.
That didn’t help.
After I dropped the bag of chips on the floor and my dog ate them, I went to sleep.
Sort of…
There’s one character…a woman with strange green eyes who puts this cat to shame:
She invaded my dream time as if she owned the place, and said, “It doesn’t have to end this way.”
I suppose for most people, having an imaginary character talking to you at 2:18 in the morning is grounds for institutionalization. For a writer, it’s a form of purgatory you come to expect if your characters are worth the paper they’re printed on.
She must’ve known I was about to kill her off.
“How do you think it should end?” I asked, sitting on a cloud next to hers.
“Don’t listen to the Ruler of the Galaxy.”
That’s the moment I wondered why I was comfortably sitting, entirely naked, 10,000 feet in the air while a potato chip fart mixed with cat poop wafted past my nose.
Fat White Dog slept soundly, her rear only inches from my face.
So now, at this moment in time, I’m sipping on Earl Grey tea with honey while Fat White Dog chases whatever dogs chase outside at 2:30 in the morning, wondering which of the 95,395,186 former Rulers I’m not supposed to listen to, or if it’s one of the 6 co-Rulers?
I’m told that books don’t write themselves.
I beg to differ.
©Joelle LeGendre
Wow! Interesting conversation! Are you listening to her?
LikeLiked by 1 person
In the dream after that one, I was standing in line for a bus with a younger version of my mother and a bunch of people I didn’t know. One of the women asked, “Do you know the burden she’s carrying.” My mother had said nothing, but her arms were loaded down. I took what she was carrying and walked on the the bus, to sit on what looked like a square trampoline next to some of the people from where I work.
It was that kind of night.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wow! It must have given you a lot to think about.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, it did.
LikeLiked by 1 person
😊
LikeLike
Doggie farts are a powerful drug. That probably caused the dream lol!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I wouldn’t doubt it. 🙂
LikeLike
Thank you for the laughs! Ah, if only my imagination could transfer itself directly to the written word without having to go through my neocortex. Writing would be so easy. Incomprehensible, undoubtedly, but certainly easy.
LikeLiked by 1 person
LOL! Some people have the “comprehensibility” talent. Others of us have to work at it. 🙂
LikeLike
Hope your frost write thaws quickly. Lovely terminology.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks. 🙂 One of those twists of words that hits and you have to write it down.
LikeLiked by 1 person