Friday didn’t really sneak up on me. I knew it was coming; it is the most consistent day of the week really. It always comes ;). Okay, so they all come like clockwork, but Friday means it’s time for Friday Dish and usually I spend quite a bit of time trying to figure out what is Dish worthy about my week so I can share with you all. Well, this week I kind of forgot that I had to blog and here’s why.
We’re looking for our next humble abode and thinking of buying. When I say we I mean my mother because as an unemployed hobbyist it is quite difficult to buy despite the fact that credit card companies keep sending me unwanted solicitations for new credit cards. Had we actually found a place when I had that thing called a job I could put my name on the loan, increase our buying power and broaden our options for finding a nice home. But as with many other people in the world life happens and jobs come and go…more likely go than come sometimes, and life forces a new path which is sometimes the right path. In my case it is the right path and I’m happy with it, but it’s also limiting in some regards while being liberating in others.
The second thing that took a lot of my time is writing. I constantly think about stories. Like the new story I’m working on (yes, still working on all the other ones too); This one played out like half a movie in my head and it made me cry. I didn’t think I would write it down, but I went to bed, had dreams of other things, awakened a couple times during the night and the movie was still vivid despite the other images that came to me in my dream world. So I decided to write the story. I already had the title because I thought of a title and wasn’t sure what book it would fit, but it fits this one perfectly so I gave it to this story. I started writing and crying. That is a first for me. I don’t normally cry when writing my books. My heart goes out to the characters and I can feel every emotion, but while I’m writing I don’t typically cry. I had a reader tell me that the recount of Eve McGregor’s loss makes her cry every time she reads it.
Eve’s husband died in what was thought to be a work accident, but in Vendetta we find out there was more to it than that. My heart went out to Eve, but I don’t remember crying. This book, however, I wasn’t even a solid thousand words in and I was already shedding tears. I, being the almost doctor of psychology that I was going to be, tend to analyze why I react the way I do and I have come to this conclusion: This story makes me cry because it feels more real, because in one way or another I have experienced something similar to what my characters are going through. Whereas my suspense-romance books are fun in my head as movies and imagination, they’re not likely to happen–not in my life at least. The situations feel more fictional for me, although some things, like with the death of Eve’s smoke jumper husband, could actually happen provided I married a smoke jumper or something. The point is that their stories are less likely to become real than this new story. So perhaps I am crying for the people I have lost and the people I know I will lose one day. Perhaps I am pouring my heart and my pain into these characters and as such working through my own emotional turmoil in the process. Given recent familial health issues , combined with a string of nightmares and crazy dreams, I would say I’m probably working through something. Of course I could just be over analyzing it ;). A story could just be a story.
That’s all for this time. More Dish next week, same time, same place. Happy weekend to all of you :).