Farlaquin

Haunted by his memories, and the alluring draw of AFI, I pull out an old book I wrote.

I open the pages immediately engulfed in the evanescent driftings of memories long forgotten….

It needs a hefty edit and dusting off, but the story is certainly worth saving.

In the revamp of my High Fantasy series, this character was going to be cut.

However, his tragic romance and undying love for a main character may yet see light of day.

As I painfully read this old story, written in a past I often wish to forget, his presence haunts me like a ghost.

Piercing dark emerald eyes, flowing nutmeg brown hair, and a smooth comforting voice overwhelm me.

I tune into another AFI song to keep him alive in my mind, wondering whatever happened to the affair my soul had with this character.

When I wanted to escape reality and pour my soul out, Farlaquin was there.

When I longed to dance in a world I couldn’t possibly physically touch, I drowned in my imagination and spent endless hours in a place once called Elverqueist.

Tonight, seduced by the memories and need to clench my thirsty soul, I look back and see him again….

And for the first time, I miss him.

He reaches a hand to me, his eyes gentle. His whisper sends tingles through my mind, as again I am seduced by worlds so far away….. that I desperately wish to reach.

His brow dropping to mine, calling me, a new scene introducing him in the new book rewrite comes to mind.

And for the first time, I am sure that his story needs told.

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Procrastination

Hello friends!
I don’t know if anybody even follows me anymore.  This might just be a shout out in the dark.

I just submitted a third short story for publication.  I’m going to be featured in another anthology!
The premise of the project was to write outside of your usual comfortzone.
My usual genre is High Fantasy/Fantasy.  The category picked for me was Noir.
After looking up what that meant, I was tickled by the anticipation to write a 1940’s conflict.
The first scene came to me in black and white.  I watched it play out live a movie in my head.  And then the next scene followed.  And…. and…. and then….

Well, then I was stuck, see?
So I spent a few weeks trying to get a handle on the story and feel out the way it wanted to be written.

Finally, as the deadline rapidly approaches, I’ve conqured the Voice and am writing at it every moment I get.

Today I finished the final edits and off it went.  Now I wait to know if they liked it, and whether or not I did a good job.

So, Procrastination.  Thats the name of the game.  And each generation does it the same.
Personally, I deal strongly with the idea that I’m a Nobody, and my stories and tales aren’t worth the effort.  Somebody will never read them.  Somebody wont like them.  Anybody can see that I’ve written a book, but as a Nobody, Anybody could leave the book sitting there unopened.

This depression and loathesome style of Self-Worth is entirely common.  Much too common.

Tonight I finished day 2 of a pretty hardcore workout challenge.  It’s not Insanity, it’s a simple challenge that’s amped up to get you going.
I started it yesterday ((obviously)), and the motivation to workout and stick with it is high!  Motivation pumping, my adrenaline is like, “Lets kick this Booty in the Butt!”
And then tomorrow morning will come.  And I’ll face down the depression all over again.

An endless cycle of procrastination and looming deadlines, because I feel inadequate to write the book.  Publish the book.  Make people want the book- in essence, make them want me.

It’s why I barely write here.  I don’t know how to garner a Following, I don’t know how to promote myself.  I don’t even know what I’m doing.

….but little by little I’m doing it.
I’m writing.  I’m making myself heard.  I’m striving to meet the Goal before me, and get into my Pre-Pregnancy jeans!  My wedding dress!  A new ball gown by Nobember!

……my own High Fantasy novel sitting on shelves in Barnes and Noble.  *is struck with starry-eyed dreams*
Going to Fantasy conventions, Comic-Con, Con-DFW, etc….
Feeling the gratification of knowing I am a /Somebody/ instead of a Nobody.

Yeah.  So that’s me.
How are you?

Letting Go

Last night I decided to drop one of my main characters from my series.

It’s not an easy decision, and frankly I wish I didn’t have to walk that path.

When my best friend of 9 years went her own way, the world we’d built together crashed with her.  An entire family of characters that belonged to her became Taboo, and my character was left an Orphan.  Sure, Farlaquin could have survived happily…  but at my current stage of Life his purpose is no longer necessary.
When a friend mentioned that we outgrow stories, I laughed at the thought.  Until yesterday.

Cutting him is easy.  Why is it so easy?
His existence can fade out of the book, and nobody will ever know who he was.

Rewriting, replotting, and reworking my series has been fun.  I’ve given it a whole new life.  Reading the old books to reap the plot pieces I need has been rewarding– but the new concept looks nothing like the old one.  It will have it’s similarities, but thankfully a great deal more maturity.

One of my characters is asking to go on a Grand adventure.  I just might let him.  In fact, maybe it’s time to let go of the old book and just start over altogether.
The High Prince of Eldegras takes a journey to see the world with his closest of friends.

So many possibilities.
And several hard decisions.

On the bright side, Lasgalad can go, and Celmaruen can have the High Princess.  That sounds like a great deal more fun anyway.

Farlaquin, I loved you deeply.  I’m sorry this has to be the way.  You’ll be back later.  Just not the same.  It’s time you grew to a new potential.  Your story is already coming together in my imagination, and it will be so much greater than it was before.