Two days ago I was two, yup, two pages from the end of "Fracture". Two sweet pages.
Then, Dear God, the damn book started talking back. "JUST FUCKING SHUT UP!" said I. Not a happy Michael t all. After two and a half damn years the book grows a set and hits me where it hurts. You see, "It" needed a grace note before the last two pages and in no uncertain terms told me what was necessary.
The chocolate on the pillow,
the lemon wedge on the espresso
The, "check your oil sir?"
But you know, it was perfect. The book knows more about itself than I do. It happens believe me. It's just that to admit a book makes itself can be a trifle humiliating you know? So the end result being instead of finishing the major art in a day or two, I've got at least another week to go.
I'm so exhausted, worn out and so happy/sad about this ending I can't sleep or really think straight about, well, shit.
At least when I first sit down in the morning to work, I grin like a fool. You on the other hand might not, just sorta scratch your head and say to yourself, " I paid for this?"
Now, as per request, I will be posting very small excerpts from various pages in the weeks to come. That will be here rather than the "working" blog.
I'll also be putting down a few thoughts and insights I've gathered during the process.
Honest, I gotta go.........and pardon my french.....that happens to from time to time also.
Bet you just can't wait.