and then...belongs

It he she belongs there here with me. Lust screeched likely. 

So I'll be updating this blog every Monday, then. Probably means shorter entries. It is impossible to send submissions this time of year; most contests and reading periods end by May. 

And we so often think of what we lack. It's a fallacy. I have this and this and this and if I think of something missing, then I must know of it, which means it isn't really missing at all. 

There are very few things. Once you conceptualize, you have most of what you want. And if you act enough, concepts make fruition. I wonder if "passion embodied" is an oxymoron...

Or perhaps there are flaws in our passion? Can you go back and change your concept and hope the manifestation, too, will change accordingly?

I used to make charts while writing. Each scene, each character, what they want, what gets in their way, how they may solve it, and mathematically it results in a lot of possibilities. Like if scene Q has characters A, B and C, and A wants A-1, but 1A-1 and 2A-2 are in the way, and B wants B-1, B-2 and B-3 but there's only 1B-1 in the way, TOO MANY CODES!

Then I could list out the options, use the codes for margin notes while drafting, and eliminate possibilities. Writing fiction is both limiting and liberating because of the infinite possibilities.

What I do now, though, see I make mind maps. On large spreads of graph paper. The organization is organic and it's much faster. 

Fast enough? We'll see. I have a deadline on National Man Day. I'm seeking publication like a rabid animal. I send at least one query/or submission every day...difficult in June!

Also I spoke to my protege today and geez her journals are spine tingling in their beauty. So damn proud, so damn proud. I'll make a name for myself then maybe pick up a couple more. Of the proteges, I mean. So proud of that girl she must be suffering at the hands of her peers being so brilliant and 

speaking of which I'm sick of my peers. Just sick ill...

Like, it happened, he said I want you to keep loving me but I don't deserve it. 

corruption, corruption, ideological nightmare come true. And yet I'm more than fine? Damn straight. Boys put me on a pedestal and don't climb up after me but I am so cozy up here!