A nice Sunday afternoon

beach walking in a bikini

I just asked my girlfriend what I should write about in this iteration of my blog. I hadn’t a clue. Why?

I’m spending the day in the warm sun, sitting on my porch, writing scenes and character bios for my next book. No, I’m not letting the cat out of the bag just yet. It’s too early in the process to tell you that. Who knows, it might never come to pass.

beach walking in a bikiniHowever, writing is what I’m doing, as well as catching up on email, social media, connecting with friends and, of course, day dreaming. I’m feeling better, and while my left over concussion headache is still with me, like a squatter who refuses eviction, I have my creative steam back. Ideas are appearing in my head, creating scene after scene that I want to capture, whether for this new book or another. It’s maddening sometimes, I can’t catch them any faster, so I lose them before I can write them down. Damn! I wish I could type at the speed of light.

Speaking of which my typing sucks at the moment. I think of a sentence I want to type, and after I type it, I find that several words are mistyped, often so badly that even the word processor doesn’t know what to do with them. Fsxk. See what I mean? Fuckk, oh fuck it already.

Frosty beer mugHere in the United States, we are having our unofficial last week of summer. For those that know our holidays, next week we celebrate the holiday known as labor day, a day set aside to honor the workers of the country. Workers who get things done, often at the behest of others. I count myself in their ranks, never reaching the heights of the one percenters.

Not that I care. For the most part, I liked my life, and I am enjoying my current life. The only way it could be better is that I get a movie deal from one of my books, and earn enough to buy that beach house, with an attached pool, and paint and write full-time, all while scanning the young bikini clad lovelies walking along the ocean and enjoying afternoon delights with my girlfriend before retiring to my hammock with a drink in my hand. Okay, that last sentence was wordy. Fuck it and go have another drink.

Cheers,
Rich

The storm in my head waiting to get out

Storm raging inside my head
Storm raging inside my head
Source: niksebastian.com

The storm in my head waiting to get out

As many of you know, I suffered a severe concussion over the summer. I’m still working out the issues. The good news is that, for the most part, my creative stream of imagery returned. Early last week, a new story idea flooded my brain, demanding attention, and looking for a way out.

Much to my girlfriend’s chagrin, I write the story, searching for every opportunity to get it out of my head and written down.

The last storm, maybe
Source: patheos.com

Within the past week, I’ve written approximately 40,000 words. Little by little, the words get out but the pressure to finish remains. Right now, I have such a clear understanding of where the story needs to go, that any delay stresses me that I might forget.

Alas, I keep on writing and beg forgiveness of my girlfriend who needs me.

This is Richard Verry, writing to you during a break in the action. Now, back to my writing.