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.”
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