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Sunday, 27 October 2013

WORKING LATE WITH THE OIL LAMP GLOWING

I often wonder how to explain that I work late into the night. Is that to be considering working late or working early? Another explanation is 'burning the midnight oil'. Well, that is what I've been doing lately. And, no I don't work by lamp light, well not oil lamp light anyway. Would be kinda hard on the eyes I think.
But, no matter how you look at it, I've been filling the early morning hours with long paragraphs and descriptive concoctions for my new book, The Vampire and the Lady. 

Started this over a year ago and was doing pretty well up until spring when I hit a snag. My light went out! I had my two vampire characters in a perilous situation and didn't know how to get them out of it. Nor did I know how to carry on or what the last part and the ending of the book might be. 

Now, when writing, it's very difficult to move forward when you have lost your way in the dark. So, I did what I usually do, I ignored it, left it simmering...for the whole summer. Occasionally, I thought of it and felt frustrated because in my mind's eye, I could see them sitting there, worried, frightened, thinking, when the hell is she going to get us out of this situation? 

You see, as I've mentioned here before, when I am not working on a book, my characters go into a frozen mode. So there they sat over the long summer months in a man-sized cage in a dark room. It wasn't until just recently that I decided to drag out my draft and read what I'd written and do some editing. That was the least I could for them. After editing about six chapters, I went to bed...finally. But although it was between 3 and 4 in the morning, I could not settle down as usual and sleep. I tossed and turned as visions exploded in my head and my two trapped characters decided to get themselves out of their predicament. All I did was watch in my mind. I was so wired up that I wondered if I would remember it in the morning. But I determined that I would get some sleep and not get up again and write down what I knew. 

Come morning, I remembered it well and got started writing. I wrote most of the day, the words were flowing freely from my fingertips, as the keyboard played a symphony of rat a tat tats. I didn't stop until I reached the last line. After writing up a short epilogue, which I later embellished, I felt satisfied at last that I had done justice to my characters and gave them life again. 

Right now this novel is in its first draft state. I am doing some editing from time to time, but I've also moved on to another novel that has been sitting and waiting for me to unfreeze my characters and get on with it. I hope to have these two novels complete within the next few weeks. 

In the meantime, here are a few excerpts from The Vampire and the Lady. 



(Savannah watched as I ripped a crawfish apart, grabbing the head and the tail. I then proceeded to suck out the head juices. It seemed to be an erotic moment for her when I sucked and watched her with my eyes. I wondered if she was anticipating what I was anticipating, and I had the urge to leave the bash right then. However, I controlled myself and watched as she went through the same procedure with her crawfish.)  
(When we finally reached the downtrodden cabin, we stopped at the crest of a hill and peered down. It was worn and beaten, one of those swamp cabins they often called Acadian or Cajun houses. It nestled between tall Cypress and Tupelo trees growing on the banks of the swamps. A hook hung on the porch wall with some kind of ancient animal carcass attached to it. A skull, that could have been the remnants of an alligator, was lying on the porch floor, and beside it was an old straw broom leaning against the wall. The cabin stood on stilts at the water’s edge.)

(“Oh, I see. Have you and Angie ever—”
“What? Got it on? What do you think?”
“Just wondering. Might be kinda different for you, next time you do. Have you since you…ah…became a vampire?”
“Actually, no.”
“Well, let me tell you, when you do, you’re gonna to be in for a surprise. You’re gonna find that you’ll probably want to do it all night. But you got to consider her. And the desire to bite her will be almost impossible to control. But you can control it, because you’ll find once you set your mind to it, you can do anything you want. Hold back, let it go, or whatever she desires. And if you get the courage up to tell her what you are and she goes for it, you’re gonna have one satisfied lady. Well, at least that’s been my experience.”)

(When we finally reached the downtrodden cabin, we stopped at the crest of a hill and peered down. It was worn and beaten, one of those swamp cabins they often called Acadian or Cajun houses. It nestled between tall Cypress and Tupelo trees growing on the banks of the swamps. A hook hung on the porch wall with some kind of ancient animal carcass attached to it. A skull, that could have been the remnants of an alligator, was lying on the porch floor, and beside it was an old straw broom leaning against the wall. The cabin stood on stilts at the water’s edge.) 
(We were just leaving the cabin, when suddenly everything went black inside and the mini world disappeared. Another bright flash brought our vision back to the swamps, but we were stunned at the new vision before us. A very large and very ugly bird was winging its way through the swamp and finally settled on the ground before us. It looked to me like some prehistoric bird from the dinosaur age.
It had a head similar to an eagle with an extra-long, sharp beak. Two large, long wings flapped slowly as feet like talons of an eagle reached down to settle on the ground. The bird had a tail similar to a raccoon’s tail, but very long and fluffy. Once it landed, we could see its enormity. Savannah gasped when the voice of an old man came out of the bird’s beak.
“So you finally got here,” it said, addressing me. I was friggin’ speechless. “It took you some time to do so, but better late than never I guess.”
We stood there with our mouths flapped open, half afraid and half curious. “What are you?” I asked, after I’d found my voice.
The bird chuckled, and it was very odd to see a bird chuckling. “Oh, I guess you don’t recognize me,” it said. And in that instant it dissolved into an old man.)  

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