I wrote a story about a puppeteer (Yellow Bird Strings) and it found a home (A Season in Carcosa anthology)
I wrote a strange little tale about even littler people, betrayal and loss (The Mechanical Heart of Him)
Monster Colours is a hibernating work in progress with a first draft full of graffiti and sacrifice.
Those are the shorts.
Completed the plan for Cobweb Strings of the Rotting House (a 'to be' novel*) and have so far scratched out 4,296 words. Hit a stumbling block when my protagonist slipped back in time to her ten year old self and we are currently searching for her ten year old voice. So far we have excitement, marionettes and rotten mattresses.
Completed the plan for Wicked, Full of Promises (a 'to be' novella*) and I'm just over a 1,000 words into it. This is the one that has me ensnared at the moment. It's kind of an Orpheus in this world, and I've stolen parts of my city and littered it with broken jukeboxes and I'm stealing my childhood home and pretty much destroying the streets of my childhood.
Those are the longer things that at the moment are not so very long at all.
- I also booked tickets for my first ever convention.
- Attended an event in Liverpool where I a) met up with a friend and b) stared wide-eyed and petrified at other folk.
- Took an online self-confidence test that claimed I was semi-confident and thus I cried bullshit.
- Ate chocolate, vowed never to eat chocolate again, ate more chocolate, vowed never to eat Cadbury's chocolate anymore, bought a creme egg.
- Watched so many episodes of Fringe that there are almost none left to watch. I ❤ Joshua Jackson.
- Bought books. Read less books than I bought.
- Scurried across the blogverse with my Travelling Theatrical Tour. Now I'm relaxing in the tent and the audience and acts have gone home.