STORYSPACE & PROJECTS: Editing
Not by the deadline of the year’s ending, but surely within a day or two this project will be called complete and I will move on to something else of one form or another.
Today I’m blessed with poetry of mind–usually indicative of somber reflection at best; ill will at worst–and find the better word or phrase or lyrical device to say the same thing that was said already but not as well.
Some new characteristics of the characters have come to light as scenes from their pasts–if that is true at all–come to their mind and thus to mine. Perhaps it is this time of change; the year simmering to a cooling leftover memory. Perhaps it is my own need to close some books and put them far away upon a shelf I barely reach, but can.
Just nice to have some movement here. Laying down some lines to offer whoever else may ever read this story. Strange feelings here too; the audience–if any–would not likely be the type familiar with the form. Those familiar with the form not likely to care about the story. This, I suppose, is what is meant by writing for oneself alone.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology