Okay, that sounds like a book title. But what kind of book? You guys decide. No, really. If Fear and Love Within was the title of a book, what would it be about? I want a little summary of your ideas in the comment section. ;) No, I didn’t plan on that, it just happened.
Then I had to go and make cover art for it. :P
I’ve been exceptionally happy with characters lately. I don’t know if I’ve lowered my expectations so much over the past few months that now everything is shockingly good in my eyes or if I’m picking some great stuff to read and watch at random, but I’m falling in love with characters left and right!
I’m sure you all know the feeling of joy that comes with reading a great book. I’m sure you know the feeling of loss when you close it up and realize it’ll never be a brand new story again. It’s like the characters are finished with you for now and you have to wave goodbye from your post on the shores of reality. And although I feel all those things after being utterly astounded by the niceness of the books I read, I get a serious case of depression too. It’s a writer thing.
Yesterday I read the book Brightly Woven.
I loved it. I didn’t think I would until somewhere between the beginning and the middle I reached a point where the characters–one in particular–had me absorbed in their lives and I felt deep concern for the outcome of their adventuring. When it was over and done I closed the book and was very upset. I was upset because the book was really good and it wasn’t fair. Because obviously with books that good, no one’s ever going to want to read my stuff. Compared to the author of that lovely thing, I’m a horrible sub-par writer. Why do I bother?
I made it worse by looking at the author bio. She’s freakin’ young!! 21, I think! And that just makes it worse because she’s an intelligent young person who has a fantastic fantasy book published that was written in a year, and in three years of obsessive writing I don’t even have one completed story. True, I have about twelve uncompleted stories, but that’s hardly useful for anything except my illusions of grandeur for the future.
Look at all those italics in the previous paragraph. I use italics when I’m upset. Handel, your Water Music is not setting the right mood here!! TIME TO PAUSE YOU AND FIND A WRITER’S INSPIRATION SONG!!
There. :) It never fails to give me shivers: And then Braxton got on his knees, crying sell this too me, please!
Every writer’s dream. *sigh* I don’t remember the annoying woman in any of the other versions of that song, and the Prof. looks creepily ancient, but I did like that Jo best. By the way, Jo’s last line in that goes: I’ll astonish the world. Just fyi. ;)
I really want to finish some more library books before I amass late fees but I’m not sure I’m recovered enough to read something with potential. Too soon for that. I suppose I could write something…
Sometime I’ll share a few story excerpts by posting them here. “If you like of me.” What say you two faithful commenters? ;)