Pacifying your Writer Demons: The Ghosts Wedding Dress: a creature Birthed from the Ice and Stone...a Wood.

They told me we were floating on the edge of something...

Some kind of an age, or way of being...

and that if we didn't go back to the Sea,

We would all be lost.

Sometimes I feel like my more natural place is between the layers of water. My skin and eyes and face feel alive and young and eternal and nymph-like again.

Often throughout the day (and especially in this heat wave of late), all I can think is that the skin - all our skin, and mine - is crying out for water in the form of sweat. We are mostly filled with water, and we cry water and we sweat water and we drink water...if not for our desire for oxygen, maybe we should belong deep in it.

I believe it even more as a Pisces. :]

In the place I used to live - before Here, with all its wide streets and uneasy similarity to the home of my Cara from my books - we had this salt-water pool [as well as a creek], and :] we often reffered to it as a valley. Because even though it was very close to huge shopping malls and bright lights, in the area we were in...none of that was visible. Walking to the top of our property, all I would be able to see were rolling hills and the power lines: chattering away with their alien talk. We were at the base of this sweeping hill with houses positioned right at the top, so we were always in the base of the valley.

And the pool...

It was always as cold as ice, and even though that made it harder to escape into, we did and...it was incredible.

I'd often get myself into the water by envisioning myself as an ice dragon, with smooth, blue scales, that dwells in the water and longs for the chilling embrace of that water. I'd close my eyes and leap in...and I could envision it and see it and it was euphoric. :]

There are many things I miss about that home.

I wonder if anyone ever watched LOST...it, it's the story I wish I had written, or could write now as a novel for the people behind the idea. I had so many dreams about it and most particularly, about Richard...it really started with my brother, and he was the one who prompted us to start watching every episode, until I had seen every single one.

It still haunts me, and I think...that the things and beings that plague us the most, are so close to being loved things. Because the most terrifying things, go hand in hand with beauty and yearning I believe.

Why else would we be so attracted in so many ways to gloomy and rather chilling things; because despite their nature, there is something hypnotic in them that calls to us.
It's why I love Sodom, my Mr. White n S so fabulously, despite his often dry humour and cruel remarks...he's always the first to put his arm around me when I'm truly down.

There are the real people too of course, and in the end, there's nothing like a real hug or kind word, but sometimes they aren't available and you have to make do.

But lately there's definitely kind words for me...from a dear, dear friend.

I have also discovered a rather home-like place.

It's called FanStory, and it's a website for all writers. You pay $2.88 to become an actual member (per month), and you can post your stories and poems and millions from around the world can review and grade it. It really works and it has so heartened me.

Love, love, love it.

I also believe that I have found the person and friend I shall take with me to the Night of Writing Dangerously. Am so looking forward to one day doing it.

However now...I shall go and work on my second book in the series, as lately I have not written so much in that area, and it's needed. In the end, you can read about writing and advice and other stories for eternity, but unless you go back to the actual writing itself...everything else (all that advice), becomes pointless to an extent I think.