Joys of Writing

Well, the Texas Rose story is in a temporary holding pattern while I figure out how to fix a major plot snafu. Ah, the joys of goal, motivation, and conflict. And just so you know, motivation (the part that's grown from a character's past and solid enough to carry throughout the story) is the one that habitually gives me fits. Not to mention the sympathetic factor. But I didn't come here tonight to talk about craft. I figured I should blog since my last post was 10 days ago. Yikes.

Okay. So I've run into a huge stumbling block with the one, but in the meantime I've been working on another gunfighter story. My faves. :o) The conflict in this one is so monumental, it gives me the silly grins every time I think about it.

I managed to get some words down on the page today. But it's very hard to sit here in my cave while the weather is so glorious and the temperature topped out near 80 degrees. Nature, flowers in bloom, trees and bushes leafing, and yard work beckons. Outside, the air smells sweet with the natural perfume of lilac and dianthus, vastly preferable to my stuffy office with Zeb cat's litter box hidden in a corner behind the armchair. Ugh. There's just no place else to put it. Lately, I've been mighty tempted to ship him outside with the rest of God's critters. Only the thought of him actually being out there, having access to the road and any huge dog that might wander past stops me. The poor guy has spent his entire life in this house and I can't bear the thought of putting him out the door. He thinks he belongs here, with us, and I guess he does. And, wow, did I ever meander off topic.

Since I mentioned him, here's a picture of Zeb. He'll be 9 in June. When this picture was taken, he weighed 28 pounds. Truly. He's a whopper and wouldn't lay a claw on anything (such as furniture) if you paid him. Such a nice puddy tat.

Well, I have no idea how I started out talking about gunfighters and ended up with my cat. But there it is. It's late, so I guess I'll call it a night. Later...

Devon