And the after that follows......

Once again, I have come out of NaNoWrimo triumphant!

Triumphant, that is, as far as word count goes.

Year 4 found me completing my entry in a Baton Rouge hotel room. But, exactly what it is that I completed, I have not, as yet, figured out. I squeaked out a 50,023-word victory on Nov. 29th. I had hoped to be finished long before then, but life--as it always does--had other plans.

But, I did finish....though what I'm left with is FAR from complete.

"Tangle of Matter Ghost" had started as a tragic Victorian-ghost love-story, with a not-so-subtle nod to Gothic Lit....that was my intent anyway. Buuuuuuut.....

somewhere along the way, about 5 or 10 thousand words into it, the story suddenly became a Civil War novel, centering on Voodoo, the horrors of war and what can happen if you take more than you can pay for....and what can happen if you take magic and you can not pay for that either.

So, I have some 15 characters, 137 pages of mixed plot-lines, which is interspersed with all sorts of inane babble. Had someone told me, before now, that I would be writing a story such as this, I would have more than just laughed in their face, I would have cackled until my oxygen-depleted legs could no longer hold me upright.

Right now, I have a faint notion of how these strange derivations can form a sensible story, but the idea of piecing all of that together sounds far worse than the battles I intend for my characters.

I have:
Aggie (Aunt Agnes) who's sworn herself to be Legba's mate

Joseph who's sworn himself to Aggie

Painted Man (Billy) whose tongueless mouth cannot form the words he needs to speak

Ralph (Anubis) whose sightless eyes cannot hide him from the horrors of the world

Chester (Charon) whose soundless ears don't protect his heart from the truths he hears

Jefferson Miller whose plantation is the site for all rituals and curses as Aunt Agnes roams the woods

Ambrose Carmichael whose rich property becomes a beacon of freedom along the Underground Railroad

Marie whose purpose is to see to the well-being of little Aldia

Aldia whose purpose is to drive her mother's household insane

Eli whose purpose is to drive Aldia insane

Letty whose oaths to Legba freed her daughter from future abuse

Mistress whose initial motive in going to Aggie was to free her daughter from a life of solitude

Everyone in this mishmash screams for the lead role in my "story". It's almost impossible to please them all, and no matter what I do write, someone is going to scream. And, at some point, that someone will, most assuredly, be me.........

A to Z reflections....

Another A to Z challenge comes to an end--- another collection of posts and poetry have been written, another deep breath of relief is released. For my fellow bloggers that survived as well, it's another 'challenge-completed' notch carved into the writing desk. I've come to enjoy my yearly foray into the world of all things alphabetical. This was my third year, though it was only the second year I had a workable theme (which made the challenge substantially easier than the first year I attempted this challenge.) And, though my first year was difficult because my focus was so scattered, I found this year was more difficult because I lost the enthusiasm that came with the first year excitement----excitement which helped me plug along until the end of the challenge. Year 3 was a success in the sense that I completed the challenge, though, this was the year that almost wasn't---- Somewhere about a third of the way through the challenge, I seriously considered

Remember and Return.....

I've settled my heart in the memory of your sigh, the subtle caress of your lips. I've eased my mind's worry in the warmth of your smile, the soft embrace of your kiss. But, the time of our parting has been of a length, that I scarce can recall your words' sound. And, I fear in the depths of this consuming absence, your passions withheld, your spirit's now bound. I have not the strength to fight such a foe, as wild and untamed as the sea. I have not the will to stand at your door, and demand your decision to be, As one or the other, the sea or my love, I know I would fail to win thee. My only request, when you've ventured enough, Remember! And, return unto me.

A-Z Reflections, year 4....

A-Z blogging challenge for 2014 has come and gone, seemingly without my realizing it. And, though I fell behind once or twice toward the end, I finished this year's challenge right on time. Really, I can't believe it's already over. I feel like I just finished my post for letter A... Year 4, for this blogger, was a far cry from the tortured state of despondency that was most of Year 3 -- I'll not mention the irony of this year's focus on death being easier to blog about than last year's foray into supernatural creatures, we'll leave that for my therapy sessions *ahem* As always, A-Z brought with it, not only 26 days of unbridled and far-reaching knowledge (disguised as entertaining and thought-provoking blog-posts), but a chance to connect with new faces while reconnecting with familiar faces--who had perhaps drifted away--from A-Z's past. I am always amazed by the ingenuity and inspiration that comes from lumping a couple thousand folk

From the Inkwell, From the Vein.....

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