You don’t talk they tell me and when I do, shut up, I don’t write I say and when I do block, delete trash, so of course, my best friend would be someone who can neither talk nor read. “Will Of Old Men, mine is to write.”
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Friday, February 28, 2020
Log 242 ~Will Of Old Men~
Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I should be like everyone else and pay for silence. Right now, I’ll admit I can barely hear the humming my head is brimming with ideas. Today I know, the last Friday of February (Tuesday honest), I should be listening to My Dæmon’s loud barks. We’ll get to it, don’t you worry, but I had sort of a melding of the minds with Cherry this afternoon. You remember as I had with my Big Sister, but she’s in Australia. For want of a woman, and I’m talking to one in England. Good news, NaNoWriMo’s ready.
It’s hard keeping all of my stories together, but I believe my next one won’t be part of the series. Should I tell you the one that starred My Dæmon, albeit Transmogrified? I don’t even remember if I gave that novel a name. Well Lady Sophia, as with the rest of them it always begins or ends in some brothel. My Old Man is a horndog in every sense, but getting him neutered? If you told me way back then that it could buy him more time, I would have considered it. Am I typing too loud, or does he know because he took off upstairs? He’ll return, he always does. I see plenty of writers talk about cats, but my kid is the perfect writing companion. Don’t get me wrong, though; I’m starting to get like Marianne Engel from The Gargoyle. She’s the sculptress of grotesques; I’m the narrator of filth, excuse me pornography.
Now that leads me to talk about Cherry. I mused that she and I should write together and she said yes. Don’t get excited, Lady Sophia, you know how I get about group projects unless you’re an Australian mom. Cherry is much too tame (sleeping with a corpse). I’m also well, me (everything you’re going to do before making a corpse and after). So while she is working on The Cherry Chronicles, I’ll be writing a novella as well. A Minister, a mom, a Millennial, and a Man walk into a church, hmm. Sounds like the start of some bad joke, plus she’s no Millennial, truth be told I am. Anyway, will this be an Erotica? You know me so well, Lady Sophia but 12,540 words. I’m a stickler for math and alliteration. To write today, Will Of Old Men.
I Will Have No Fear