There I was, thinking I’d be able to write more once school was out. Now, one month later, I’ve barely done anything. Maybe life got in the way; maybe I’m just making excuses. But lately, I’ve had a story that’s been bubbling up unannounced. It started with one paragraph that actually came to me in a dream, or rather in that time/space between dreams, when you’re neither asleep nor awake, that unlocks all kinds of secrets. When my alarm went off, I grabbed pen and paper and jotted it down as best I could. Now I’m faced with the difficulty of filling in the space around this paragraph, which describes a single instant. I fear that I will encounter the same difficulty as I have in drawing – getting the main subject right is relatively painless, but filling in the background is arduous, and getting the two to gel can be hellish. Hopefully, I’ll be able to stretch my words forwards and back and sideways, like rolling out a pie crust, to creep across seconds until the story is complete.
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